#honestly finding these gives me motivation to sort it out again and get it out of its depression room status
was catching up with a friend from grad school and he lowkey mentioned a position that might be a good fit for me and now im going through an existential crisis over my career because this conversation made me realize im actually quite unhappy in my current position
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— THROWN TO THE WOLVES (III)
PART ONE || PART TWO || PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Atreides!OC
SUMMARY — Na-baroness finds out a few interesting details about her husband's past as she gets to watch him for the first time in the arena.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is Paul Atreides' half-sister. Thank you to everyone reading and commenting this story! 😳💗 Your kind comments motivate me like nothing else, honestly! 😅
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, mentions of sexual activities including non/dub-con (no actual smut) + exhibitionism, syringes & blood drawing, violent behaviour, death, mentions of planned and scientifical breeding, another reminder that the Reader is not supposed to be a good person 😈
WORD COUNT — 6,060
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
THROWN TO THE WOLVES (III)
Two days to regenerate did not feel like enough. You spent them all in your bedroom, mostly sleeping. You really wanted to work out some daily routine for yourself but there was not much else to do and you were afraid to wander off to walk around the fortress all by yourself. You had a feeling you were not allowed to do that anyway.
“Don’t I have any duties? Meetings?” You asked Astra and Cara on the last day of your freedom as you were teaching them how to do hair and make-up.
“No, na-baroness. Those duties are Baron’s,” Cara told you.
“But he has no wife,” you furrowed your brows.
“If he had one, she would share the duties with him. But na-baroness cannot, my Lady,” Astra added.
“So, I’m free to do whatever?” You asked.
Even as a Princess of Caladan you had more duties. Your father was sending you for the meetings to schools, to the theatre events, not to mention all the banquets with the ambassadors and the nobility.
On the other hand, your new position did not surprise you – the Baron did not treat you like a proper Harkonnen family member. You were nothing but a trophy and an incubator for his nephew’s future heir.
“Na-baroness is allowed to the library and the relaxation area,” Cara nodded her head.
“And the dining room, of course,” Astra whispered.
However, you still had not been in the dining room since your wedding party. All the meals had been brought to you and you would eat them on Feyd’s balcony. At first you had been hesitant but you had been told that there were shields protecting the people living at the palace from being exposed to the atmosphere’s pollution.
And indeed, you didn’t feel like you were choking on a slimy liquid whenever you were on that balcony. It still felt weird to eat food in black-and-white. It felt as if it had less taste for sure.
Feyd was not inside his bedroom when you were walking through it and he was not eating his meals alongside you. Cara and Astra had informed you that he wished to stay away from you until the fight.
Not that you missed him.
You knew that tomorrow you would have to face him and his desires again. If he would win the fight, of course. But Cara and Astra had already told you he would always win because every fight in the arena was fixed for him to win. Other gladiators were drugged and he had all sorts of devices to keep him safe.
Cara and Astra were very talkative once they felt safe around you and it didn’t take long for them. It was the first time they were thanked for doing their jobs, the first time they had names, the first time they earned some dignity for themselves.
The Harkonnen slaves were bred to be this way. Slaves were giving birth to even more slaves. They had no mothers, no fathers, no names and no humanity. Their sad and painful lives were often short because of the violent and impatient men like your husband who would slay them for fun without any consequences. All it took was to say something wrong or deliver the bad news, drop something or breathe too loud.
You wanted to change their fate once you’d become the Baroness but you knew that it would be a long time until then… if it would happen at all. And even if you’d survive enough to get that title eventually, perhaps by that time you’d already change so much that you’d start to enjoy this cruel system for your own benefit. Not to mention Feyd would probably never allow you to make a change like that.
You had to become a Harkonnen, there was no doubt about it. But you also did not want this new life to kill every single good trait in you. In fact, maybe you needed those good traits to actually rise above those monsters surrounding you. Maybe the remaining goodness in you was not a weakness but an advantage.
“Thank you,” you thanked the girls and stood up to take a better look at yourself in the mirror. They put make-up on you a little clumsily but the effect was satisfying. They were quick learners. However, the lipstick they used was black and the eyeshadow bright red. You didn’t have to ask, you assumed that was na-baron’s order. “Thank you, you’re so talented, my girls,” you told them and they smiled shyly at each other.
You approached them and placed a kiss upon Astra’s head and then Cara’s. They looked almost startled at the affection they had received. No one had kissed them like this before. Not even their mothers who had not really been allowed to raise them after all.
“I am very glad the Baron has assigned you two for me, you’re special,” you cooed to them and they giggled.
Oh, they would die for you already.
But it was easy with the girls like them. Winning them over was no victory for you to celebrate. Even women much more stupid than you would succeed at such an easy task.
Not that you were using Astra and Cara. You really liked them and felt sorry for them. You weren’t faking your affections but you were exaggerating them for sure.
You were certain that the Baron had told them to spy on you. But now you were also certain they would never tell him anything that would get you in trouble.
Because love makes people more loyal than fear – those were your father’s words. And you hated to remember them and you hated them for being so true. Because your father still hadn’t written you any letter. You didn’t want to look up to him. You didn’t want to make him proud. You just wanted to survive.
“Tomorrow, for the tournament,” you told your girls, “I think I will look very pretty when you’ll do my make-up,” you assured them and they sighed with relief. “My hair, though…” you sighed and they looked down. “It’s okay. We will think of something.”
After breakfast you were asked to follow the guards who took you to the medic. He was already waiting for you with all sorts of syringes and a smile that pretended to be kind but it made creeps go down your body.
“Na-baroness,” he bowed down so low that it was almost funny. You still remembered his lack of respect towards you before you had held this title. “How are you feeling?” He asked and you laid down on the examination table already prepared for you.
“You’re asking physically, am I right?” You wanted to make sure. Of course you were aware he wouldn’t be interested in your mental state.
“What else would I ask for, my Lady?” He seemed to be confused at the question and sat next to you.
“I’m feeling… tired,” you admitted and he hummed as he examined your body. This time he was gentler and more careful. He didn’t tell you to remove your robe fully either.
“He’s going to do it again today,” you told him when he was staring at one of the faded bruises. “It hurts,” you added.
“I can give you something to regenerate faster, my Lady,” the medic nodded and you gritted your teeth.
Of course. It was easier than to tell Feyd-Rautha to be gentler.
You only nodded your head at him and then he proceeded with all injections and with drawing the blood from you.
“Are you taking your pills, my Lady?” He asked. “After every sexual intercourse?”
“Yes,” you answered and hissed at the feeling of the needle.
“It’s the last one today, I promise, my Lady,” he shushed you.
He was so calm and almost kind but so terrifyingly scary at the same time. You did not like that mix. You’d prefer him to be rude and rough, at least he’d be always honest with his intentions.
You knew that he was acting nice to make you trust him. As if you were that stupid. You decided to play his game, though. Perhaps it would be useful one day for him to think that you trust him.
“Does he get such injections, too? My husband?” You asked, innocently batting your eyelashes.
“Yes, na-baron’s getting them, too. And I run tests on him as well. It takes two people to create life,” the medic smiled at you.
“How does it work, exactly?” You sat up when he was done with you and he walked away to hide all the empty syringes and samples.
“We are making sure that all your eggs will be filled with the best genetic material and all of them will be able to only create boys, my Lady,” the medic told you.
“And later…?” You swallowed thickly. “After I give birth to an heir?”
He looked at you with… pity. It was not a good sign.
“Let’s not worry about that now, na-baroness,” he nodded his head. “You are free to go. It’s a big day today.”
Astra and Cara were waiting for you in your bedroom already with a gown you had never seen before. Well, the word gown was an overstatement.
It was made of leather stripes that left very little to imagination and it reminded you more of the costumes that Feyd’s pets were wearing. You winced at the sight.
“What is this?” You asked with contempt.
“Na-baron requested for you to wear this, my Lady,” Astra looked down, nervously.
“I will not,” you shook your head and approached your wardrobe to search for something else.
“But, na-baroness…” Cara started. Her hands were shaking already.
“I will not wear this,” you approached Astra and took the hanger with the gown from her hands to throw it on the floor. “I am his wife. Not his whore,” you stated and went back to looking through the dresses.
“A-as you wish, my Lady…” Astra nodded and crouched down to pick the dress up and hang it in the wardrobe.
You didn’t blame her for having no courage to take it back to your husband.
It would be the first time you’d present yourself to the people of Giedi Prime. Ordinary people of this planet who would watch the tournament, not those important noble men and women who had been invited to your wedding. You were aware, thanks to Cara and Astra, that people were very interested in you and they already adored you because you were so different in the way you looked. If you played your cards right, you’d become the beloved na-baroness of the citizens.
You didn’t want to present yourself to them looking like Feyd-Rautha’s pet. You wanted to show them the dignified na-baroness you aspired to be one day.
At the same time, you didn’t want to make Feyd too angry. So you chose one of the dresses he had gifted you before. It was soft, red leather and it covered most of your body almost modestly but the cleavage was quite big.
“This will do,” you pointed at it and the girls nodded before approaching the hanger to remove the dress from it delicately.
You walked up to your vanity and looked through the jewellery. Dress like that was asking for a necklace. But then you spotted a black choker with a red stone and a few ornamented chains with smaller red stones dangling from them. It would cover your throat and fall down your neck so deliciously; you already made up your mind.
“With this,” you told your girls. “What do you think?”
“V-very pretty, my Lady,” Cara nodded, still scared about your change of outfit.
The dress fitted you perfectly. You wondered how they had known your size so well. The medic had measured you right before your wedding, it would be too late for them to prepare those dresses so fast unless hundreds of people worked on them. No, the most possible scenario was that your father had sent them your measurements earlier as they most likely had requested amongst the other things.
They had requested a lot. Your portrait, your health statistics, your family’s tree for the past ten generations, the sample of your voice. And in return they hadn’t even sent you Feyd’s picture. You still were getting angry at the memory of how humiliating the whole process had been.
When the dress, shoes and jewellery were placed on your body, the maids worked on the make-up. This time you chose black eyeshadow and red lipstick to match the gown’s fabric.
“What about the hair, my Lady?” Astra asked, worryingly. “Last night we were practising a little on a wig,” she informed you.
“Where did you get a wig from?” You asked and chuckled.
“We stole it,” Cara whispered and you raised an eyebrow. “There are a few wigs in this fortress, my Lady. Previous Baronesses liked to wear them for special occasions to look more pretty. Baron Harkonnen’s mother for example,” she explained.
“We saw her having hair in the old pictures,” Astra joined, “so we thought she had to have a wig. We decided to find it so we can practise.”
“You did that for me?” You looked at them with disbelief, visibly moved.
“Y-yes, na-baroness,” Cara nodded. “The wig… Its structure is different from your hair, my Lady. But we learnt how to do braids.”
“And how to attach decorations,” Astra smiled gently.
You reached out to hold their hands and squeeze them lovingly.
“My girls,” you told them and they giggled. “But look,” you glanced at yourself in the mirror. There was something very attractive about your hair loose in that outfit. It was making you look less proper and more raw, savage even. Especially in that make-up and outfit. It was a mix of a dignified person and a barbarian from the pictures in your old anthropology books. “I think I will go with my hair loose,” you decided.
If you were the only person on Giedi Prime with hair – except for your two poor previous maids – you wanted to show it off proudly.
“But keep going with your training, I might not always want to go out like this,” you told your girls.
“Yes, my Lady,” they bowed down.
Someone knocked upon the door and Cara went over to open it.
“Is na-baroness ready?” The guard asked.
“Yes, she is.”
“We are ordered to take her to na-baron before his fight,” he informed her.
You sighed and fixed your hair for the last time in the mirror. You didn’t know why he wanted to see you before the fight after avoiding you for two whole days. Perhaps he wanted to get riled up even more. That was probably the reason why the dress given to you was so revealing.
You couldn’t wait to disappoint him.
You nodded your head at Astra and Cara and you walked outside to follow one of the guards. He led you outside the fortress and put you in a vehicle waiting for you with another guard and a driver inside.
“They will take you to the arena, my Lady,” he informed you and bowed down before walking away.
You nodded your head and coughed already from the outside’s air. Inside the vehicle the air was a bit better but still not as clear as in the fortress.
“Na-baroness better get used to,” the guard sitting next to you told you, “there are no shields in the arena.”
You only nodded at him and cleared your throat.
The ride was short because other vehicles waiting in the line were moving away to make a way for you. Through the window you saw faces of the Harkonnen people staring at you with big eyes.
“They cannot see you, my Lady. Only you can see them,” the guard told you and you nodded once again. “They are wondering if you are inside the vehicle,” he added.
“Can’t I make myself visible to them?”
“What for, my Lady?” He asked, surprised.
“To wave at them,” you answered like it was the most obvious thing in the whole world.
“That is not a custom, na-baroness,” he nodded his head gently, trying very hard not to laugh at you.
The vehicle entered the underground parking lot for the vehicles belonging to the top-priority members of the family and your guard helped you to get out of it.
Your father never liked the unnecessary splendour and all those little privileges that could get into one’s head. The Harkonnens couldn’t disagree more. Even treated terribly by your husband and his Uncle, you still felt superior with all those people bowing down all the time and being able to walk around places where only the VIPs were allowed. Feyd could do anything he wanted to you but to most people on this planet you were untouchable and unreachable. Your one glance could make your guard behead someone. It was a dangerous amount of power that you had always dreamt of. You never wanted to abuse it and become a tyrant, but you wanted to hold it.
Getting used to this part of The Harkonnen culture would come easy for you, surely.
But the closer you were to the room where Feyd had been waiting for you, the less superior you felt. It was difficult to tell if you actually hated him or the fact he was making you feel scared.
You were led through a dark corridor, seeing cells of other gladiators with the doors half-open and the medics injecting drugs into their bodies. You had already been told by your servants that Feyd’s opponents were drugged. You couldn't count on him to die in the arena. Sadly.
The guard finally stopped in front of a tall, black door and he knocked upon them before pushing them open.
You followed him inside, trying to keep your posture straight. Feyd was in the middle of the room, surrounded by the servants who were showing off blades to him and painting stripes on his muscular body with black paint. His three whores were there, too. They hissed at the sight of you and that was what made him turn around and lay his bright eyes on you.
You feared he’d get angry seeing you in a different outfit but he only chuckled contemptuously.
“My beautiful pet,” he beckoned you over and squinted his eyes, “haven’t seen you in a while,” he continued. “Why aren’t you wearing my gift?” He asked when you were standing right in front of him already, trying to keep your poker face on.
“I’m not a whore,” you informed him casually. His pets gave you hateful looks and he laughed at you, showing off his black teeth. You moved slightly out of discomfort.
He stopped laughing all of a sudden and became so serious that it seemed unnatural to change his mood so fast. He approached you, closing the small distance between your bodies. You could feel his hard muscles through the soft leather fabric of your dress. His fingers traced the longest chain dangling off of your choker and he let them go lower and lower until he reached the hem of your cleavage.
“Hungry, my Lord?” You dared to ask him. When he was turned on, it was easier to test him and play with him. He was letting his guard down a little when he wanted to fuck desperately.
Such a scary, brutal man. Yet so desperate and pathetic sometimes.
He looked up and met your gaze. There was an animalistic desire in his eyes as his pupils darkened.
“I wouldn’t say such things if I were you,” he warned you, his voice even raspier than usual.
You smirked at him, taking a deep breath in to calm yourself down but it made his eyes drop down again at the sight of your breasts rising up and down.
“Get out of here,” he gritted his teeth. “I’ll ask for you later.”
“My Lord,” you bowed down ironically and turned around to join your guard who was waiting for you by the door already.
You were taken to the lift and all the way up to join the Baron on the balcony. It was placed on one of the corners of the triangular arena and it was protecting the VIP members from the polluted atmosphere to some degree. The average Giedi Prime citizen had no such privilege and had to take one of the seats in the overcrowded auditorium.
The Baron hummed at the sight of you. You bowed down and he nodded his head. You were given binoculars by the Baron’s servant and you stood by the Baron’s left side as his servant was already standing on his right. Your guard remained in the back alongside other guards.
You watched the audience through your binoculars and you noticed that lots of people were actually looking right back at you. You smiled to yourself.
“How to make them like me?” You asked the Baron.
“What?” He looked at you, surprised and you moved the binoculars away from your face to look at him.
Standing so close to him and taking a better look at his pathetic form, he somehow became less scary to you. Of course his one order could end your life. But it was his power that was dangerous, not himself.
“How to make the people of Giedi Prime like me? Any tips, my Lord?” You repeated your question.
“Their opinions don’t matter, baroness,” he let out a laugh and you looked away, pretending that you found something interesting somewhere else.
You didn’t like the way he addressed you. Everyone knew that the title of baroness belonged to a woman who would be brave enough to be his wife. The very thought made you sick.
The fight started and you sat down on the chair prepared for you next to the Baron. Feyd-Rautha was announced as the audience cheered enthusiastically. His enemies were greeted with the sound of booing and whistling. Through your binoculars you could see that they were barely standing on their feet, drugged and dulled.
“What is the point of this?” You asked the Baron. “It’s not a real fight. It’s a show.”
“For now, yes. Until he is fully ready. I want the people to see him as my natural successor,” he explained to you.
“I thought their opinions don’t matter,” you pointed out and the Baron laid his eyes on you.
“Let me expand my sentence, baroness. Their opinions don’t matter when it comes to whether we decide to keep you alive or not,” he smirked and went back to watching the fight as it had just begun.
Your heart skipped a beat at that statement. Everything started to make sense now. They would get rid of you after giving Feyd an heir because you would no longer be needed. You had to play your game right and buy yourself more time.
“If you get rid of me, my father will intervene,” you reminded him.
“Like he’s intervening now?” Baron chuckled to himself and you clenched your jaw at his words. You couldn’t argue with that.
“You will need more than one heir. What if he dies? It’s more than possible with the way you’re raising boys on this planet. It’s safer to have a few options. And daughters are useful, too, to make alliances. I am the best example,” you tried not to reveal how nervous you were while saying these things.
“Adorable,” Baron looked at you again. “You think I don’t know you’re trying to buy yourself more time?”
“No, I don’t think that. I know I’m being pretty obvious,” you gave him a fake smile.
“Give us one boy first and we’ll see. Anyway,” Baron went back to looking down. You pretended to do the same but you couldn’t focus. “The final decision will be Feyd’s. You are his.”
For some reason it made you a bit calmer now. Feyd was visibly attracted to you. You just had to play your game right. Perhaps become less rebellious but at the same time not too obedient – it would bore him. You already started to plot all the ways you could make him addicted to you.
“Oh, you think he won’t do it…” Baron’s voice brought you back to reality and you looked at him, confused. He was smiling ironically at you. “That boy killed his own mother. Don’t be so sure that he will think twice before getting rid of a woman who pushed out his brat. He would have already broken you if I hadn’t told him not to. I am the one to keep you safe here, baroness,” Baron gave you a wicked smile. “And I’m not going to lie, it was tempting to let him break you. It would help his reputation if he fucked his first wife to death on the wedding night.”
The blood in your veins immediately turned cold at that revelation. You brought the binoculars closer to your face and observed Feyd in the arena.
He was having fun down there, playing and teasing with his opponents. Even if they were drugged, he was still giving a show. He was an amazing and brutal fighter. In black-and-white, with nothing but murder in his eyes and a psychotic smirk on his face – you had never seen him more terrifying. Yes, now you could see him slaughtering his own mother.
Then, suddenly, one of the gladiators stabbed your husband. Feyd reacted immediately and fought back but his opponent managed to hurt him a few more times before getting slayed. At the sight of the bleeding wounds, even you hissed out of pain, despite hating the man who had been hurt. The Baron chuckled, though.
“Why are you allowing this?” You asked him as you put the binoculars away, not being able to watch this anymore. “He’s your nephew, he’s in pain. Didn’t you put him down there to win?” You couldn't understand. “He almost got killed.”
“Barely,” he laughed. “And he loves the pain anyway.”
“Who would love to get stabbed like that?” You shook your head.
“A boy who had been trained to like it since he was a child,” he looked so deep into your eyes with the most serious expression on his hideous face that it sent chills down your spine.
A long silence occurred between you two.
“What have you done to him…?” You whispered eventually as your lips opened a little in disbelief. The Baron only chuckled and went back to looking through his binoculars.
You did not. You put yours on your lap and you looked away, trying to process everything you had just found out.
Feyd-Rautha was nothing but a hurt boy. He was a tool in his uncle’s hands, a brutal guard dog, a killing machine. Most likely manipulated to kill his own mother, too. Strapped of all humanity and emotions. He was not your oppressor. He was his uncle’s victim as much as you were.
Feyd-Rautha was not your enemy. It was the Baron.
It was the Baron who would in the end decide your fate. Feyd would do what his uncle tells him. You had to make the Baron find you likeable, not your husband. This option was the safest but it was also giving you the least amount of control.
You could also make Feyd-Rautha your pet and turn him against his uncle. It would be risky and it would take lots of time, lots of mistakes and lots of disappointments. But in the end it would give you power.
The cheering audience and fireworks made you look down again. Feyd was holding his bloody blade up and yelling in triumph as all his opponents were laying lifeless behind him.
He was terrifying but you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him now. He was just a hurt boy, you tried to remember.
There was a feast after a fight but Feyd was not sitting beside you. You asked your girls to find out where he was and they informed you that he was with his pets. You assumed he was keeping his promise to fuck a whore before taking care of you in order not to break you.
You focused on the food in front of you. You had to admit that the food on Giedi Prime was delicious. The Baron loved to eat. As everyone was able to see.
From the corner of your eye, you watched Count Rabban sitting next to his uncle. You wondered about him. He hadn’t spoken to you even once after your introduction on the first day. Was he an important piece of this puzzle? Did you have to worry about him, too?
Then you felt someone watching you as intensively as you were watching the Harkonnens. You turned your head around and spotted a woman with a veiled face. She had to be a Bene Gesserit sister. You went back to your food and ignored her. You didn’t want any Bene Gesserit around you.
Growing up with Lady Jessica made you allergic to these women and their mending. You hated how much influence they had in most of the Empire.
“My Lady,” one of the guards approached you and leaned in to whisper in your ear, “na-baron wants to see you. I am supposed to walk you to his chambers after you’re done with your meal.”
You nodded your head. How considerate it was of your husband to let you finish your meal first, you thought. Perhaps the medic actually had told him something about treating you too rough. He hadn’t looked very pleased with some of the marks on your body either. Maybe it was making the whole process of controlling your cycle more difficult when you were too weakened.
You didn’t hurry with your meal at all. And when you finished it, you drank some of the wine and wiped your hands and the corners of your mouth clean. When you stood up, Astra approached you and reapplied your red lipstick discreetly.
“Thank you,” you smiled at her and nodded at the guard before following him outside the room.
On your way to face Feyd again, you tried to remember what you had realised earlier – that he was just a hurt boy. In many ways his upbringing did not differ much from your slave girls’ one. And in many ways you could work on him in the similar ways as you worked on them. Only that he would not be so easy to win over.
You fixed the choker on your neck and nodded at the guard. He opened the door and you walked inside Feyd’s bedroom. An odd feeling filled your body – since his and yours chambers had been a place where you’d spend most of your time so far, you almost felt as if you were finally home after a long day.
And after spending a whole afternoon with the Baron, Feyd’s presence was almost comforting in comparison to his uncle. He was the devil you knew.
He was waiting for you on the balcony wearing nothing but his pants. He was shirtless and watching the fireworks. You joined him carefully, not wanting to startle him and trigger some violent reaction.
“You’ve missed the feast,” you said and dared to touch his arm with your fingertips. He moved away rapidly as if your touch was poisonous.
“My feast has just arrived,” he licked his lips at the sight of you. “Get out of this dress if you don’t want me to tear it off of you,” he ordered and you nodded.
You began undressing clumsily as he watched. You weren’t used to undressing yourself on your own without any maid’s help. Finally, it dropped down on the balcony’s floor and you crouched down to take it and throw it inside the room.
Your hands moved up to find the clasp of your choker.
“Keep that pretty thing on,” Feyd said and licked his lips as you stopped. He approached you and turned you around to press you to the railing. You were facing the courtyard and you could see people walking through the corridors of the fortress through the windows. You also could hear distant laughter and conversations from the dining room.
“How did you like the fight?” Feyd asked you, standing so close behind you that you felt his breath on your neck. He gathered your hair in his hand and threw it on one side so he could bite your bare shoulder blade. His hands grabbed your breasts.
“Does my opinion matter?” You asked.
“My servants told me that people of Giedi Prime are pleased with their new na-baroness,” your husband changed the subject. “They love your hair,” he added and you felt his face burying in your hair as he sniffed you like a dog. “And they love your breasts,” his fingers pulled on your nipples. “All men on Giedi Prime want to fuck you, my na-baroness,” his lips brushed your ear.
It obviously turned him on that you were such a prize.
“But only you can do that, my Lord,” you breathed out and he froze for a moment.
Feyd grabbed you by your arms and turned you around to face him again. He was looking at you as if he was trying to read you.
“You’re different tonight,” he noticed.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek. It would be easier to play those games with him if he was more stupid. You had to come up with some lie.
“I changed my opinion about you after seeing you fight in that arena,” you batted your eyelashes and reached out your hand to caress his hard abs. He flinched at your delicate touch way more than he had flinched at the cuts he had received during the fight. Speaking of them, you moved your hands to the fresh wounds and caressed them, too. “Now I know I was given to the real warrior,” you continued.
“Stop it,” he grabbed your wrists and pushed your hands away. His jaw was clenched and he looked angry, yet confused. “I don’t like it,” he said.
You really felt sorry for him at that moment. You couldn’t imagine what the Baron had to be doing to him to make him this way. Any sign of delicacy or affection was confusing and angering him.
You had a lot of work to do. He often threatened to break your body. But you would break his mind.
“Forgive me, my Lord,” you bit on your lower lip.
“Turn around,” he ordered and you obeyed.
You hated yourself for actually being a little excited at the idea of being fucked on that balcony, facing the courtyard, with the possibility of someone looking out of the window and seeing you.
Feyd was tired after the fight and after using his pets before he dealt with you. Three rounds was all that he could give before being completely knocked out. You watched him sleep beside you and for a moment you wanted to go back to your own bedroom but then you decided to stay. He had also been more gentle on that night than on the previous ones. Of course he had still been rough but it was bearable. Or perhaps you were starting to get used to it.
You gasped as you almost forgot to take your contraception. You left the bed and approached his desk to open the black box and swallow one of the white pills inside.
You closed the box gently and took off your choker to put it on the desk before going back to your husband’s bed. You pulled the duvet up to cover you both and you laid on your side to watch Feyd’s profile and listen to his heartbeat.
You moved your hand up carefully and tried to caress his cheek but he flinched and winced so you took your hand away and sighed in defeat.
A plan started to form inside your head as you were drifting off to sleep:
Feyd-Rautha – to break him
The Baron – to get rid of him
Count Rabban – a friend or an enemy…?
MASTERLIST
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Choso, Yuta, Nanami and Yuji taking care of their sick girlfriend! They take care of her very carefully and give her medicine and food.
note: Hiii anon!!! thank u for the request ♡ᵎ I actually already made one with yuuji & nanami → here but I rlly hate it looking back on it so here’s a short one w yuta & choso added <3
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 ﹒
⠀ ⠀᭝ when he realises you’re sick, he’s probably half exhausted by your inability to keep yourself healthy, and half concerned and worried for you.
⠀ ⠀᭝ its like second nature the way he takes care of you, softly tucking you into bed and cooking warm foods he knows you like for you.
⠀ ⠀᭝ he’s the type to set rules; no more going out without drying your hair after a shower, no more takeaways three nights in a row, no excessive sugar binges anymore. he wants to avoid this happening again.
⠀ ⠀᭝ nanami would force you to take the gross tasting medicine, sighing exasperatedly when you shake your head at him. “come on, love. don’t be difficult.”
⠀ ⠀᭝ once you finally take the medicine he’ll kiss you on the forehead and give you a gentle smile as a reward. worth it every time.
⠀ ⠀᭝ lets you call him ‘nanamin’ for the day without complaining once. only because you’re sick, though.
⠀ ⠀᭝ he will read to you if you’re too weak to move or do anything, and has no problem keeping you company while you recover.
⠀ ⠀᭝ “Ken, you’ll get sick too.” you murmur gently against his hair. he’s sat down on the floor next to you, his head resting just beneath yours on the bed.
“I’m careful.” he replies softly, voice hoarse and a little more tired than usual. “go to sleep now.”
𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈 ﹒
⠀ ⠀᭝ honestly, he’s not even that good at taking care of himself, but when he realises you’re sick—he goes straight into ‘mom’ mode.
⠀ ⠀᭝ he’s relentless.
“are you feeling okay right now?” ﹒ “do you need anything else?” ﹒ “any better now? no? need me?”
⠀ ⠀᭝ he’s good at cooking, and he absolutely utilises that when you’re sick, making you all sorts of foods he thinks you’ll like. he probably gets a bit carried away and makes something a little difficult for you to digest, but you appreciate his efforts anyway.
⠀ ⠀᭝ cancels all plans he has to stay with you. he’s usually the type that enjoys going out with his friends and staying out late having fun—but he knows without a doubt that there’s nothing he’d rather be doing than spending this time with you.
⠀ ⠀᭝ he will absolutely shower you with kisses, hugs, cuddles and all the rest. him also getting sick is last on his list of worries, and it’s definitely not motive enough for him to keep his distance from you.
⠀ ⠀᭝ he’ll wrap you up in blankets like a little burrito and giggle at how silly you look, and if you try to break free he’ll stop you with a: “hey! no no, you need to stay warm if you’re going to get better.”
⠀ ⠀᭝ you pretend you don’t see him giggling and taking cute little pictures of you.
𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀 ﹒
⠀ ⠀᭝ he’s probably the most gentle and loving. when he notices you’re sick, he’s not at all concerned with the why’s and how’s, he just wants to see you get better.
⠀ ⠀᭝ he’ll clear his busy schedule to stay near you. just because he’s soft spoken doesn’t mean he’s gonna let anything distract him from taking care of his bby.
⠀ ⠀᭝ he can’t really cook many dishes. you last one day telling him his food is amazing before you give up and beg him to order in instead.
“huh? you said you loved my cooking. ଘ(|lI.‸.)”
⠀ ⠀᭝ orders your favourite, also orders more than he knows you can eat, just in case you get hungry for more later.
⠀ ⠀᭝ yuta will offer to take the medicine with you if it makes you feel better, knowing you hate the way it tastes.
“pretty sure that’s bad for you, baby.” you murmur with an amused expression.
“it’s okay! I’ll do it if you want.”
⠀ ⠀᭝ his offer is refused but you still find it awfully endearing. he settles on just peppering kisses onto your face after you’ve swallowed it and handing you little pieces of candy.
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ﹒
⠀ ⠀᭝ outwardly calm and collected, inwardly panicking slightly. he’s not really sure how he’s supposed to take care of you but the thought of you being sick is just not sitting good with him at all.
⠀ ⠀᭝ choso carefully listens to whatever you ask of him and does everything perfectly; buying you all the right medicines and opening windows when your fever gets too high.
⠀ ⠀᭝ stays close to you at all times, feeling considerably more protective over you. he’s not used to seeing you so vulnerable and decides he’s going to monitor you closely until you’re back up and healthy.
⠀ ⠀᭝ you notice he’s in a slightly worse mood than usual, though he tries his best to hide it from you.
⠀ ⠀᭝ he talks to you to distract you whenever you’re in any sort of pain, and kisses you softly when he notices you’ve calmed down.
⠀ ⠀᭝ absolutely no one is allowed to talk to you, interact with you or even look at you until you’re better.
bonus:
- sukuna sees you laying down tiredly, clearly unwell and gives you a blank stare before asking what’s wrong
“I’m sick.”
“pathetic. what do you need?”
mwah mwah mwah thank u for reading<3
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“Are You Listening?”
Part Three: “Bad Idea”
Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.
Summary: It’s part three…expect the unexpected.
Warnings: Profanity, angst, fluff, drinking, and drama.
Word Count: 5,900+.
A/N: I just wanted to thank my lovelies again for showing this story so much love. I had no idea people would love it this much. Thank you for all the sweet, hilarious comments and asks💓. Enjoy the chaos😂😏😈.
"Are You Listening?" - The Playlist:
Apple Music.
Spotify.
Part One Here.
Part Two Here.
Inspired By:
Dark clouds filled the evening sky as a drizzle fell against your windshield. Your thoughts were adrift as you fought to make a proper decision. There were only two choices. Accept the offer and hope for a positive outcome, or leave immediately. The loud vibration of your phone halted your decision-making. Sucking in a shaky breath, you accepted the call. It was your best friend. The word hello barely left your lips as she began firing off questions.
“Did you make it to your destination safely? Are you sure it’s smart to be around him right now? Should you trust him?”
You cut your friend off.
“Sis, calm down. Let me answer at least one of your questions.”
“Seriously though, Y/N. How did he find you?”
“He didn’t find me, per se. We’re just in the same state, city, and establishment. Ironic as it may seem.”
“That’s just a little too coincidental for my liking. Look, just be careful and keep your guard up dealing with him. Y/N, you’ve got enough shit going on. There’s no need to fan the flames. Your situation is bad enough. Accept his offer but keep your head on a swivel. Now, take your ass inside that building. Call me once you’ve settled for the night. Do you need money, sis?”
“How’d you know I’m sitting in the car? Yes, I’m good on cash. I withdrew half of our joint account before I left town. I should’ve emptied the account and made his damn pockets hurt.”
“It’s my job to know. You’re my best friend. I agree you should’ve drained that account, girl.”
You inhaled, attempting to calm your nerves, “alright. I’m going in. I’ll call you later with an update. Love you, sis.”
Even after ending the call, you spent a few more minutes in the driver's seat of your vehicle.
Oh, fuck this. Let me just see where it goes. It’s been years since I’ve been here. It wouldn’t hurt to accept the help of a familiar face.
Exiting the car, you enabled the lock as you walked towards the luxurious hotel lobby. Halfway across the threshold, you felt his presence to your left.
“I was starting to think you had changed your mind. It was as if I could see the thoughts racing through your pretty little head from the lobby window, sweetheart. I’m glad you decided to accept my assistance.”
“I’m not sure I’ve decided to do so. Listen, I appreciate the hotel recommendation, but don’t you think it’s odd, maybe even inappropriate?”
“Why’s that? Are you afraid that I’ll inform your husband of your whereabouts?”
“Cut the shit. Why are you being so helpful? What’s the real motive here?”
“Listen, believe it or not, we’re family. Just because you’re mad at Rio doesn’t mean I should just leave you out here all alone. I don’t plan on telling him I saw you. There are no plans to notify him of your location. I’m securing a place for you to stay because I wouldn’t feel right leaving you to sort everything out alone. I have no idea why you’ve left my dumbass cousin. The fact that you packed your bags and just left suggests it’s serious. I won’t pry. Tell me or don’t, but I will secure and pay for your entire stay here. No arguments.”
“If Christopher finds out you’re helping me stay away from him, he’ll explode. The two of you already have a strenuous relationship.”
“If he finds out. Then he’ll just have to get over it. I honestly don’t give a damn, darlin’.”
“What are you even doing in California, Nick?”
“I’m here on business.”
“What kind of business?”
“I’ll answer that once you explain why you left your husband. What exactly did my cousin do, sweetheart?”
Rolling your eyes at Nick, you walked over to the hotel clerk. She greeted you with a warm welcome, offering you help. Giving her your last name, she informed you that you were staying in the penthouse. About to object and ask for something smaller and less expensive, Nick interjected.
“It’s already been taken care of, cousin.”
Your head snapped in his direction with an incredulous expression.
“Are you out of your mind? No, on second thought, you're not paying for my stay here. I’m not letting you put me in a penthouse and allow people to think I’m your whore. Do you have any idea how that will look, Nick? Are you crazy? You must want Christopher to kill both of us. No wonder you two don’t get along. You love pushing his buttons. The whole damn family’s crazy.”
“Are you finished with your little tirade?”
“I see that you’re also a sarcastic asshole like Christopher.”
“Did you miss the point where I had no intentions of Rio finding out? Just take the room, and enjoy the luxury. I’m sure my cousin has been putting you up in the nicest of places since the day he laid eyes on you.”
“I’m starting to feel like you’re implying I’m a gold digger. Tread lightly. I’d hate to have to kick you in the nuts. Now do us both a solid and change the damn room. Be glad that I’m accepting your help, to begin with.”
“I think it’s best if you know something. I'm just as pushy and controlling as your old man, sweetheart. We both know I’m helping and paying, no matter what you say.”
“Switch. The. Damn. Room,” you growled.
“Fine. Jesus, you’re just as stubborn as your husband.”
“That offer to kick you in the balls still stands. Please stop tempting me.”
“I have a business meeting here at the hotel. I made arrangements for my associate to stay here for a few days. He’s a man of luxury. I’ll switch the rooms for the two of you.”
“Yes, do that, Nick.”
“I’ve got to admit I enjoy hearing you say my name.”
You had grown tired of his antics and landed a sharp jab on his chest.
“One more inappropriate comment and I’ll leave to figure things out myself. I don’t know what you think is happening between Christopher and me, but we are married.”
Not for long, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Even if I were single, I wouldn’t give you a second glance, honey. Please do not fool yourself.”
“Why is that? Am I not rough enough around the edges, like your hubby?”
“You honestly want to know?’
Nick shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “sure, why not?”
“You’re overly arrogant, and your sense of entitlement is ridiculous.”
He started to interject, but you pressed on.
“I’m no fool, Nick. Deep down inside, you’re hoping that somehow, some way, Rio finds out. I see you. You’ve been sparring with my husband his entire life. You’ve spent your life trying to prove that you are the bigger, better man than Rio. What’s the difference between you two? Nick, you’ve spent your entire existence having everything handed to you. All while my husband did the heavy lifting, grunt work, and the bids. Or have you forgotten about that? Rio earned his empire. He got it out the mud. You just sat and watched, sticking your hand out to take a chunk when it was all said and done. While Rio can be arrogant, it’s warranted. He can talk his shit and back it up.”
Although I’m pissed to the highest level and treading the waters of divorce, I’ll be damned if he sits here and insults everything Rio has worked hard to accomplish.
“Do not flatter yourself. You’re nowhere near half the man my husband is.”
Even if he is a cheating ass bitch.
“Such a beautiful, passionate rebuttal, and yet you’re here. With me, might I add, after walking out on mi primo. Let’s just call a truce. I’ll try not to flirt with you, but I won’t lie and say my cousin doesn’t have good taste,” he teased.
I just insulted him, and he’s still thirsty. Lord, help me.
“For the love of God, Nick!”
“Okay, I’ll back off. Now let’s get you settled into your room, shall we? I’ll accompany you back to your car. Carry your bags up to your room,” he responded, throwing his hands up in surrender.
With squared shoulders, you lifted your chin into the air.
“That won’t be necessary. Don’t you have a meeting to get to?”
“Why do I feel you’re trying to get away from me? Are my good looks too much of a temptation for you?”
“Boy, stop! Don’t nobody want your shallow, overconfident, big-headed ass.”
“You’re so mean, mama.”
Did this motherfu-I know he didn’t just say that! Now he’s pushing it!
Moving closer, you crowded his space. The smirk dancing along the corners of his lips proved he knew the nickname he used was out of line and disrespectful. You looked around. Making sure he’d be the only one to hear what you had to say. Through clenched teeth, your words dripped with venom.
“So long as we both have breath in our bodies, don’t you ever make the mistake of calling me that again. Please do not get it confused or twisted. Rio did not marry a weak bitch. Call me that again. I’ll do Rio a solid and spray you full of bullets myself.”
“Aww, why not, sweetheart? Does it make you miss hubby?”
“Keep playing with me, Nick. It won’t be funny to you when I want to laugh too. I’m over this conversation. Thank you for the room. Now, leave me alone. Go make yourself someone else’s problem.”
“Fine. I’ll come by and check on you later, prima.”
“No, you will not. Goodbye, Nick.”
If Christopher finds out about this, he will lose the little sense he has left. Wait, why do I even care? It’s fuck him from here on out.
“I Gave You More Than You Wanted. I Gave You More Than You Needed. So Tell Me, How Does It Feel To Lose The One You Believe In?”
-Chloë.
The suite turned out to be very spacious and elegant. Much better than the cramped room you had stayed in the night before. You trudge through the doorway of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. It hadn’t taken long for you to unpack and settle in. Fresh out of a hot shower, you mope to the bed and fling yourself backward. Thoughts race through your head. You hadn’t taken the time to soak in everything. You were too busy trying to run from the situation at hand. Yes, there had been many crying sessions and stewing in anger. Now that you were in another state and settled, it hit you.
Did I just walk away from everything I’ve known for the last four years? The one person I trusted with my heart. My soul. He ripped it out and stepped on it. The audacity. The unmitigated gall to play with my love and emotions. Did he? Rio did that shit, right? How can he possibly have a reasonable explanation?
“You Never Miss A Good Thing ‘Til It Leaves You. And Finally, I Relaize That I Need You. I Want You Back. Baby Girl, I Need You Back. Gotta Have You Back, Babe.”
-Usher.
Just as the tears started to roll down your face, a call came through. You huffed, tapping the ignore button. Seconds later, it started again. The call went unanswered a second time, and a text came through.
It’s me. Please answer your phone.
The phone lit up once more. With a heavy sigh, you accepted the call.
“What do you want, Mick? I don’t want to talk to him, and he knows that.”
“Since you won’t communicate with him. I’m in charge of finding out if you’re okay. I’d personally like to know myself. You good boss lady?”
“Mentally and emotionally, we both know the answer is no. Physically? I’m breathing and somewhat eating. That’s the best I can give you. I appreciate you checking on me. As for your boss? He can go fuck himself. Goodbye, Mick.”
“Hold up, boss lady. I need to see it for myself.”
Mick sent a FaceTime request. With an irritated sigh, you angle the camera so he’d only see your face and a white wall. You begrudgingly accepted the call.
“See. Just fine.”
He frowned as he looked at your red puffy eyes. Mick could tell you hadn’t been sleeping much.
“Yes, I’m aware my eyes are puffy. I’ll be fine. Bye, Mick.”
Mick was about to plead with you to come home, but his face vanished from the screen. Your eyes sparked with resentment and anger as Rio appeared.
“Mama…”
“What part of I don’t want to speak to you don’t you comprehend,” you spat.
“Can you just fuckin’ listen to me?”
“You suddenly have so much to say! That’s because you no longer have me sitting at home. I’m no longer playing my role as your stupid little unsuspecting wife. No, not anymore. Stay the fuck away from me. Don’t call, don’t text me. Tell your boys to stop looking for me. There is nothing we need to discuss!”
“Oh, I’ma keep calling and texting. Please, believe me. Mama, I will find you. You’re coming home; we gon’ work this shit out. Just let me explain everything. You’ll feel silly when it’s all said and done, darlin’.”
“You Didn’t Say It, But You Said It…”
-Chloë.
“Did you fuck that bitch, Rio?”
He looked at you with anger written on his face as his jaw flexed.
“That’s what the fuck I thought. Silence speaks volumes. Fuck out my face. Go find your whore and live a shitty life.”
“Ma-.”
You ended the FaceTime, not giving him another moment of your time.
I'm Going Out Of My Mind, And I'm Running Out Of Time. Oh, I Just Wish I Could Find You, Girl.
-Usher.
Rio stood there, rage coursing through his body. He gripped the phone in his hand tightly, “Fuck!”
“Anything I can do,” Mick questioned.
Rio took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He handed Mick his phone.
“Let’s take a ride. Red better have a plan. If I don’t get my wife back soon, it’s game over for her.”
“You think she’s the reason behind this?”
“It doesn’t appear that she knows what’s going on. We both know that her innocent deer-in-headlights expression can sometimes be a facade.”
“You’re right about that.”
“We have to find her. I have to fix this. Real shit, man, I need her. I love that stubborn ass woman.”
“Then let’s handle business and get her back.”
“Loved You More Than Ever, More Than My Own Life. The Best Part Of Me I Gave You, And It Was Sacrificed.
-Beyoncé.
Still reeling from the conversation, you tossed your phone across the bed. Everything was just too much. You were overflowing with anger, sadness, and grief. The betrayal of it all had you drowning. A sorrowful cry spilled from your lips as you curled into a ball. You remained in that position, cradling your face until sleep consumed you.
Hours later, your eyes fluttered open. The sun had set, and your room darkened from nightfall. Your feet flung off the side of the bed as a headache throbbed in your temples. The rumbles coming from your stomach echoed throughout the room.
I haven’t had shit since this morning. This stupid ass man got me going through it. I need a damn drink.
You called the front desk to ask if room service was still available. To your surprise, the clerk recommended the hotel restaurant. She explained that both tables and bar space were available. You thanked her for the recommendation as you dug through your wardrobe.
Let me at least look presentable. I can’t be walking around this nice hotel looking bummy. If I play my cards right, I may find my next husband. Nope, scratch that. Fuck these cheating ass men.
Rio sat slumped in the passenger seat with Mick at the wheel. Leaning back on the headrest with his hood pulled up. Rio sat there as his mind kept going over everything. They pulled into the park, waiting for dingbat and her crew. Once they were in sight, Rio gave his boy a nod. Mick exited the car, exchanging duffle bags with Beth. She told him she would have the next one ready at the appointed time.
“Did you find a way to handle the situation we discussed the other day?”
Beth shook her head with pleading eyes. She promised to find a way to get to the bottom of it. Mick nodded in reply. As she started to leave, Mick halted everyone’s movements.
“Backseat now. We’re going for a ride.”
With a frightened look, Beth started walking toward the vehicle. Mick stopped her again.
“Not you. I’m talking to you half pint,” Mick ordered, pointing at Annie.
Annie’s eyes stretched wide as the three women gawked at him. With a devious smile, he taunted, “don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of her.”
Beth walked over to the passenger window and pounded on it. She took two steps back when Rio rolled down his window. The look he gave stole the breath from her lungs.
“Is there a problem, darlin’,” his question dripped with danger.
“I told you I would get you answers. I-I just need a little more time.”
“That’s cool, but you may want to watch your nephew for little sister. His mama’s going to kick it with Mick for a bit. Got a little side hustle for her.”
“I can do it.”
“Did I ask you to?” Rio snapped.
“Please keep her safe,” she whimpered.
“Get me that information. Baby sister will come back better than she left. Stay safe, Elizabeth. We don’t want anything bad happening to the little mama to be right? It’s not very responsible of you to be downing liquor bottles, don’t you think,” Rio questioned in a knowing tone.
Elizabeth looked at him with fear in her eyes.
“I notice everything, darlin’. We’re going to take a ride tomorrow. Just the two of us. Check on the little bambino.”
He rolled up his window before she could say anything else. They sped off, leaving Beth to explain everything to Ruby.
Not wanting to turn too many heads, you settled on a simple black dress. You figured it was appropriate, given that it matched your mood. The form-fitting bodycon paired well with the dark red heeled sandals and lipstick you sported. Checking that the room key was inside your handbag, you exited the room.
The hostess gave you a warm greeting. She granted your request for a seat at the bar. As you claimed your spot, the gentleman behind the bar asked for your drink of choice. His eyes had roamed your body from the minute you sat down. It hadn’t gone unnoticed. Prepared to answer his question with disinterest, someone stepped up next to you. Strong hands braced against the top of the bar. A silky baritone sounded, making your breath hitch.
Are you serious? Who else am I going to run into? This day is beyond me. Maybe it’s not him. I have to be trip-.
“She’ll have a whiskey sour. That’s what she used to drink whenever a frown touched that beautiful face.”
Yes. That would be the one and only.
You turned your head slowly to take in the familiar voice. His face was as beautiful as you had remembered it.
“Hello, mi amor. May I join you? I could use a drink myself.”
Confusion and shock danced across your face. You looked back and forth between the thirsty bartender and your long-lost friend. His eyes connected with yours as that handsome smile crept across his face. He signaled for the bartender to go ahead with the order. Taking the seat next to you, he chuckled at your expression.
“It’s nice to see you after all these years, querida. What brought you back here? Last I checked, you were happily in love. Are you and the husband here on business?”
Hearing him mention Rio snapped you out of it.
“Miguel,” you whispered.
His eyes crinkled as he gave you another beaming smile.
“It’s good to see you again. How have you been? Are you enjoying married life? What’s it been a year or two since the I Do’s?”
The smile that had occupied your lips for a moment faltered. Your eyes started to water as you looked away and faced the bar. Miguel’s hand covered yours gently.
“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me what’s bothering you.”
Just as you were about to answer him, a familiar pain in your ass sounded off behind the two of you.
“Yes, prima. I’d like to know what’s going on as well. Most importantly, how do you know my associate here,” Nick questioned.
Nick waited for an answer as he sat there looking smug. A knowing look crept onto his face as if he had discovered a secret.
“How do you two know each-wait? Prima? You’re related to her husband?”
“What business are you two dealing in? Are you working with Rio, Miguel?”
Before he could answer, Nick answered for him.
“Relax, prima. It’s my business deal. Rio isn’t involved. We do have individual businesses. We butt heads too much to do everything together.”
“I wouldn’t do business with your husband without telling you, querida. Then there is the fact that we’ve never met in person. The meeting is my first encounter with your cousin. I’m sure you know Rio wouldn’t want to go into business with me.”
“And why is that? He used to tap that or something, prima? Maybe I should give Rio a call.”
“Are you interested in talking about business or not, Nick? That is the only thing that needs to be questioned or discussed,” Miguel responded in an aggravated tone.
“Hey, whatever you say, man. She knows I’m just teasing.”
“Then perhaps you should find someone else to aggravate. The lovely lady certainly doesn’t enjoy it. Is our table ready?”
“Yes,” Nick bit back.
“Then let’s get this over with. I do have other business to attend to. You have my attention for the next hour. We aren’t starting on a good note, wouldn’t you agree, Nick? You need to fix that. I assume the warehouse visit has been scheduled and prepped for tomorrow. Let’s make our way to our reserved table.”
“Right this way.”
Miguel’s hand gave your shoulder a light squeeze before he got up to follow Nick.
“I’m sure you still have Nestor’s number,” he asked, tilting his head toward his security/cousin.
“If you need anything, give me a call. It was a pleasure running into you, querida.”
You gave him a weak smile and nodded softly. Turning back to the bar, you downed the whiskey sour. Your fingers tapped the bar for another. The drink was halfway to your lips when Rio started blowing your phone up. With a deep sigh, you ignore it and turn your phone off.
“Bartender? Go ahead and bring me two more.”
The universe is funny as fuck. This man’s going to find me. I can just feel it.
You rubbed your temples as you contemplated where to go from here. One hour, four drinks later, you sat there wallowing in your pain. Thankfully you had made a conscious decision after the last drink to switch to a glass of red wine. Feeling buzzed, you decided it would be your last drink of the night. Taking your time with it, you nursed it for a while. Just as you had swirled the remaining liquid in its glass, Miguel reclaimed his seat from earlier.
“A penny for your thoughts, querida?”
Your eyes drifted from the stem of your wine glass to Miguel’s face. He noticed that you were slightly inebriated. His hand reached up and brushed your hair out of your face. The palm of his hand rested on your cheek.
“Don’t you have other meetings to get to?”
“I just wanted that smug asshole to hurry up and discuss the deal. The sooner we did that, the quicker your dear cousin would be gone,” he replied sarcastically.
“Hmm. Smug bastard, huh? That best describes his thick-headed ass,” you toast, downing the last of the wine.
“You shouldn’t be drinking at a bar by yourself, amor. I’ve watched half the men in here ogle you the entire time you’ve been here. Come. Nestor and I will escort you to your room.”
Miguel didn’t want to give you time to protest or continue drinking. He paid your tab and held his hand out. You stared at it for a moment.
“Though you’re wearing heels, those cute little legs still dangle from the stool. Come, sweetheart. I promise to be a respectable gentleman. I don’t make it a habit of approaching married women,” he chuckled.
Not giving it any more thought, your hand gently grasped as he helped you down. The elevator ride was quiet. That was until you blurted the one question that lingered in the back of your mind.
“Where’s your wife, Miguel?”
You noticed how his jaw ticked, nostrils flaring slightly.
“She had other plans tonight,” he answered.
Before you could ask him to elaborate, the elevator dinged.
“I do believe this is your floor.”
Miguel placed his hand on the small of your back. Nestor stepped aside, allowing you two to step out first. He asked for your hotel key as you walked down the hall. You turned the corner as you placed the key card in his hand.
“You said the first door on the left, right?”
“Ye-.”
You lost your train of thought as you started to panic. There was a large bouquet of yellow roses in front of your door.
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong, querida,” Miguel asked as he rubbed the small of your back.
The worry in your eyes set off alarm bells in his mind. Miguel took a look and noticed the flowers. The distress about possibly working with Rio. The teasing from Nick. He turned to face you, blocking the view of your door. His hand caressed your face.
“Tell me the truth. Are you in danger? Did you leave your husband, querida,” he whispered as he searched your eyes for the truth.
No longer able to keep the emotions bottled up, your lip trembled as the tears slipped down your face. You nodded slowly. Miguel frowned at the response. He pulled you into an embrace as you cried into his chest. His hands rubbed your back as he attempted to soothe you.
The two of you stayed that way for a few moments. Pulling back from his embrace, you wiped at your tears. Miguel’s hands slid up and down your arms.
“Did he hurt you,” he asked, jaw ticking again.
“Rio would never put hands on me. He-he.”
Unable to finish the sentence, a fresh set of tears spilled.
“Okay, okay. Shhh. I think I’m starting to understand. Come here.”
He embraced you again. Once he calmed you, Miguel escorted you to the door. He nodded at Nestor, signaling him to pick up the flowers. Unlocking your suite, he grabbed the flowers and followed you inside.
“Thanks for getting me here safely. Sorry, I just unloaded all my emotions on you like a crazy person.”
“It’s fine, querida. That’s what friends are for. We were close once. Lost time won’t affect that.”
His thumbs swept residual tears away. He bent to your feet and helped you out of your heels. Standing, he grabbed your hand and held it. His finger lifted your chin.
“Try and get some rest. Come deadbolt the door behind me.”
Following him to the door, you watched as he opened the suite door. Stepping into the hallway, he turned to speak with Nestor.
“Have one of the other men come and watch her door for the night. If it’s not me, no one gets in here. Don’t even let them knock. Watch the door until your replacement gets here.”
Nestor nodded in agreement taking his position in front of your door. Miguel turned to you, his hand running down your arm again.
“If you need me, I’m on the top floor. Just ask whoever is guarding the door to call me. Better yet, here. Call me if you need anything.”
Miguel handed you a card that had both his business and personal number.
“Okay,” you whispered.
“I’m serious.”
“I’ll be fine, Miguel. Rio’s just adamant about us staying together. He would never physically harm me.”
“You can’t blame him for wanting to work it out. Any man would be a fool not to fight for you. Still, if you need me, call me.”
“Yeah, because Emily would just love that. She’s never been fond of me.”
“Don’t worry about her. I’m the least of my wife’s worries at the moment.”
No longer wanting to discuss his personal life, Miguel pecked your forehead.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
Locking the deadbolt behind him, you made your way to the bedroom. Stripping out of the tight dress, you bundled up in a complimentary robe. Falling into the couch, you turned your phone back on. Six texts and two voicemails. You rolled your eyes. Noticing the flowers, you mumbled to yourself, “fucking Nick probably snitched. Little shit.”
You snatched the card from the bouquet and flipped it over. Your breathing sped up as your mind started to race.
What the fuck? I don’t need this shit. What next?
Hands trembling, you re-read the card.
“I see hubby’s out of the picture. Who’s going to protect you now? What better way to kick Rio when he’s down? He would probably be beside himself if his precious jewel came up missing. Stay safe, pretty lady.”
To top it off, now I have to run from his ops too? You have to be shitting me!
Snatching the door open, Nestor saw the look of fright in your eyes.
“The flowers aren’t from my husband. I’m pretty sure whoever sent them just threatened me. Tell Miguel I appreciate everything he did tonight, but I’m getting the fuck out of here.”
Nestor talked you down. He instructed you to grab anything needed for the night and lock up. In less than twenty minutes, Nestor was escorting you to Miguel. He was anxiously waiting for your arrival. His hands instantly cradled your face.
“You’re staying with me for the night. We’ll figure out where you’ll go from here in the morning. Sleep in the bedroom. I’ll take the couch.”
“That’s nonsense. I can sleep on the couch.”
“No, you won’t. No arguments.”
“Why are most men in my life so damn bossy.”
“They also seem to have the same types of occupation. You don’t seem to like men who like legal work, querida.”
“Ha, ha. You’re so hilarious.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Those mentioned tend to be extremely successful at it,” Miguel replied with a shit-eating grin.
“Anyway.”
The conversation was interrupted by yet another call from Rio.
“Look, I'm going to have to answer him. I’ve been ignoring him for hours now. I know his veins are about to pop out of his neck.”
You excused yourself, taking the call in his bathroom.
“For someone who’s always so busy, you sure are blowing up my phone. Go back to ignoring me, please. I don’t have the energy to go back and forth with you, Rio. I’m tired and stressed out.”
“Just come home, mama. I’ll leave and stay somewhere else. Just come home,” he slurred.
“Are you at that stupid bar that demands your attention as well? Go home, Rio. Sleep off the liquor.”
“I gotta be near you, mama. Who's going to protect you? What if someone tries to harm you while you’re not with me? I can’t live with that shit. I need my wife to come home. Come on, mama.”
“It’s a little too late to protect me now. Isn’t it? Don’t worry about me, Rio. I can handle this shit myself,” you snapped, quickly regretting the last sentence.
“Handle what shit, mama,” he barked.
Fuck.
He instantly knew something was up.
“It’s okay, Rio. I’m a big girl. Luckily my stupid ass husband taught me how to use a gun. You know I stay strapped.”
“Either come home or tell me where the fuck you are. I’m going to light whatever city you’re in up. Better yet, I’m about to spray any suspected target.”
“Don’t be stupid. There is no need to start a war on my behalf.”
“I’m not going back and forth about this anymore. Tell me where you are.”
“No, goodbye, Rio.”
“Don’t fucking hang-.”
Miguel stood propped against the door frame.
“I know he fucked up, but it sounds like he wants to keep you out of harm’s way.”
“Don’t, Miguel.”
He placed his hands up in surrender.
“If he can’t do that for you, I will.”
Yeah, cause my husband would just love that. Jesus, be a therapist. I need Iyanla to come and fix my life, bruh.
“I Can Understand Why You Want A Divorce Now. Though I Can’t Let You Know It, Pride Won’t Let Me Show It.
-Jay Z.
Rio had been sitting in his bar for a few hours. Though the argument made him even more aggravated, he took your advice. He wasn’t in the mood to take a chance at catching a DUI. Rio instructed Mick to drive him home.
He swaggered into the family room and lounged on the couch. The house was painfully quiet without your presence. Rio’s thoughts drifted to you as his chest tightened at the thought of you being in danger. Sighing, he closed his eyes in an attempt to shake the negative thoughts. Your scent still lingered throughout the house. Nothing seemed to help him shake the memories and intrusive thoughts. His eyes fluttered open, nostrils flaring. Rio was trying to be patient with you, but it was starting to wear thin. You could be mad for however long, but divorce was out of the question. Could he do a better job at loving you? Yes, and he was willing to do so. Would you be willing to give him another chance?
Rio’s buzz had started to wear off. Blowing out a breath, he stared at a picture of you two. The frame on the console table contained a photo from your first anniversary. Shaking his head, he stood up and walked over to the bar cart. Throwing back another glass of brown liquor, he fixed one more and reclaimed his seat. He asked Alexa to play a specific song. The lyrics hit home as he nodded to the beat and recited them. Song Cry by Jay Z flowed through the entertainment system.
“They say you can’t turn a bad girl good, but once a good girl’s gone bad, she’s gone forever. Mourn forever. Shit, I gotta live with the fact I did you wrong forever.”
What happened to everybody deserves a second chance, mama? Damn, I miss my wife.
Sis can't catch a break, huh lovelies😩😆? I hope you all enjoyed part three. More drama to come in part four! I can't wait for you all to read what happens next. Can't say for sure when part four will be done and ready for posting. I'm still taking things slow. Please, please, please love, reblog, and comment. I would love to hear from you all. My ask box is open as well. I missed y'all, man!
Be sure to check out the playlist I created for this fic. It's on both Apple Music and Spotify. The links are towards the top of this post (in case you missed. Still adding to it, so if you have any song suggestions just drop an ask. The playlist is pretty lengthy and it's best on shuffle in my opinion. Thank you once again for all the support. Words can't express how appreciative I am. Love y'all🥹🫶🏾! Keep scrolling for another bomb-ass mood board (saved it for the end so it wouldn't spoil the reveal)🥰.
Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics
Taglist:
@4everbrookemarie @nightlywords7 @amorestevens @rio-reid-whoreee @abcdestinyyyy @hihellogoodbyebruh @sunshine-flower @lemmewritesomeish @catxo @naughtyslashers @realhotgurlshit @peaches007 @gardenof-venus @aizawash0e @minton131 @novaniskye @90sisthenew80s @cjricks98 @skyesthebomb @myownworstenemydw @lifeofthelovelyone @tashawar @gabbywontlose @skelly-baby @adg1115 @blessedboo @fandomcitysstuff @drinaj @being-worthy @sxkxna @elliesrealgf @batgurl42 @gotbeefbitch-blog @thedopestblackgirl @imjustheretoreads-blog @memeaaaa @djconde58 @astoldbychae @fineanddandy @1andonlytashae @alertyoulikeitsamber @blackmissfrizzle @darqchilddaydreamz @heytaewrites
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only halfway thru the new frieren episode i was almost tearing up because the theme of protecting each other and caring about life more importantly than winning is so poignant. not all the characters are human in species but once again the humanity is blossoming in frieren's story. i was so afraid they'd actually get killed last ep but i mean it's so funny now what was i even thinking. this is frieren. they won't kill unless it was really necessary.
the reveal that richter raised the platform not to make his fight with lawline and kanne easier but actually to protect them from denken's attacks was so good. the "magic is nothing if you cannot imagine it" line is so wonderful because i'm a big fan of magic systems that revolve around that logical "science-y" aspect of like. understanding how it will work in order to do it. (same reason why i love the magic in "world's greatest assassin".) laufen getting caught by frieren even though she knows it's a trap just bc she didn't want denken to get hurt was also so good. the reveal that denken didn't have a grander motive to be a first class mage beyond "i wanna go back to my hometown and visit the cementary there but only first class mages are allowed to enter" was so painfully human and so reflective of real life. it also strikes you because he was introduced as a high-profile, politically influential mage.
i love what denken says about not going out without a fight. i love that the episode ends in a fistfight for him. i love it when media uses fistfights and punching in such an emotionally-charged human way, beyond the violence, instead depicting it as some sort of catharsis really. because sometimes all you need is a good rough n tumble. in denken's case, it's his way of not giving up without a fight. i like that. i also like that this was foreshadowed by denken telling laufen to cut the tree down instead of trying to cut the restraint. "we don't have any mana" "neither do they". sometimes all it takes is to find a differently way to approach your problems and sometimes the solution is simpler than you think.
i'm a big fan of frieren breaking the barrier because she thought it was unfair to cut kanna (and by extension lawline) out of her source of magic, giving her an unfair disadvantage and honestly a handicap. it's a short part of the episode but it's so important, because it shows that if people are given the right tools and the accessibility, they can do for themselves what they want and need to do. i love that frieren is like "can you imagine winning against a water manipulating mage with water around? i can't."
i'm a fan of how the "basic" combat and defensive magic are depicted and treated as in this show. yes, people more on from traditions, but traditions are there in the first place. richter's explanation of magic history in their world provides an insight to how modern magic evolved from the foundations. but the foundations were still foundations for a reason. they made it a point with fern saying "frieren doesn't restrict me from spells" (even tho it was the setup for a small joke) that the point isn't to pick a side between tradition vs modern, but rather to learn from both and decide for yourself what you want to apply to yourself. the depiction of fern and frieren winning with traditional magic and richter and kanne overwhelming each other with modern magic makes it clear that the show isn't trying to preach to either side.
i also like the theme of "pursuing magic out for the sake of magic is enough". it's nice to hear that denken shares this mindset with frieren, because again he was introduced as someone influential and you'd think he thinks like he could use magic as a source of power. and that's the impression i got of him too from previous episodes, but a lot of first impressions of mine were proven wrong later and i'm so happy for that bc these characters have so much depth packed into them in so little time.
what else have i missed...
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Sopapillas.
Miguel O’Hara X Reader one-shot
Summary: You and Miguel share a small moment.
A/N: I haven’t seen the movie yet, so this is based on what I could scavenge from various Marvel websites and some spoilers. This in and of itself holds no spoilers, but I’ll tag it under “Spoilers”.
Warnings: None. Maybe some really bad spanglish (I’m Mexican but my spanish is fucking AWFUL)
(If any of my spanish is cringe or bad, please please please, correct me and suggest phrases to me. I'm totally open to criticism here!)
. “Miguel? Eyo, ¿dónde está, man? I got you some sopapillas! I think some sugar could do you some good.”
You wandered around the large room where most of the tech was located. Various holographic screens were up, displaying what appeared to be some kind of surveillance system. Miguel was the one working tirelessly to find a way to…well you honestly had no idea. All you knew was that you were here, in this corner of the multiverse, with others like you. Apparently you were supposed to be a spider person, but something in your timeline went wrong, and you ended up there. You had no powers, but also no motivation to return to your former life. To be fair, going back to that absolute shit show of a life was the last thing on your to-do list. Instead, you settled for being a sort of assistant for Miguel. He usually had you run small errands, maybe keep tabs on certain things, or help with technical issues. You often wondered why, since Miguel seemed more than capable of doing everything himself. But, he did seem very overworked and just downright stressed out 24/7, so perhaps he did need the extra help.
You looked around, holding the styrofoam box in your hands. You were about to call out to him again, when a screen to your left suddenly flickered off, revealing the towering man behind it, causing you to jump. “GAH!!” you exclaimed, startled by his sudden appearance.
There were slight bags under his dark eyes and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days (which was actually the case).
“Geez dude, you keep giving me heart attacks.” you said as you handed him the small box. “Got you a little something to help with the night shift.”
His brown eyes flicked down to what you were handing him and he blinked, his nose twitching in what could only be confusion or exhaustion. After a moment he sighed and took the box. “Thanks.” he mumbled before opening the box, grabbing a sopapilla and biting it. You caught a glimpse of his fangs, which made you shiver. ‘Dioses, those things look freaky.’ you thought.
“Did you double check that timeline I told you to investigate?” Miguel cocked an eyebrow at you, his eyes regarding inquisitively. You nodded. “Sí,todo bien. I triple checked too.”
You waited for a snarky remark about something or other, or for him to suddenly get annoyed by something, but nothing happened. Instead, he just stared at the screen to your right. You turned and saw…another version of yourself. You, the you in the video, were at a party it seemed. You were dancing and laughing, looking happier than you’ve ever felt.
“When is that?” you asked, pointing to the holographic display, the orange glow of the screen reflecting off the gold wrist cuff you wore.
“It’s apparently you in earth-3499, pre-serum you.” he said before taking another bite of his snack.
“Pre-serum? I don’t get bitten?”
“Nope,” he wiped some sugar granules off his bottom lip with his thumb, and licked the rest off. He put the box down on the consol beside him and brushed his hands off. “You, in this canon universe, were injected with this serum that combined the original super-soldier serum paired with an experimental serum that had both spider DNA and some other experimental tech.”
I cringed. “Oh no, not the nano robot thingies from earth-7569.”
“Nah, it’s something else.” He turned the screen off and leaned against the consol. He nodded to you, beckoning for you to join him up on the consol platform. You hurried up the steps and joined him. Beside him, you could clearly notice the size difference, realizing how tall he was. You glanced at him and leaned against the black console as well.
“¿Qué pasa, hombre? No eres tú mismo. Dime, ¿qué te molesta?”
Unlike most of the spider people around, he seemed more relaxed around you. He shared things with you, usually about his family. You couldn’t fathom why, but you consider yourself lucky to at least be in this man’s good graces.
He looked at you, curiously, brows furrowed as if he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“¿Por qué no quieres volver? Tenías una vida, una familia, cosas que la mayoría de nosotros luchamos por recuperar…”
You started to fidget with the sleeve of your jacket. “No sé... Supongo que mi vida canónica no fue tan... genial como la mayoría supondría.”
Miguel placed a hand on your shoulder, in a consoling manner. You continued, “No significa que no los ayudaré a todos, simplemente no me siento obligado a volver a mi antigua vida.”
He nodded. He was about to say something else when another screen popped up with a new developing timeline. He swiveled his head, and watched as the events unfolded. He groaned in annoyance. “Oh great, what now, another canon fuck up?”
As you both watched the timeline thingy, you unflinchingly watched as the spider-person on the screen got hit by a train.
“Canon?”
“Yep.”
“Anything I can do?”
He pointed to the box you had given. “You get yourself something to eat. I don’t want you hangry tonight.”
You scoffed playfully. “You’re one to talk.”
He shot you a miffed glare and threw the box at you, which you caught with ease. You chuckled, both out of unease and nervousness. “¡Que era una broma! ¡Solo una broma!”
“Uh huh, yeah, sure.” he said, sounding unimpressed.
You chuckled to yourself as you left the room. Had you turned around, you would’ve seen him shake his head and allow a small smile to grace his lips. “You’re a pain in the ass.” he mumbled.
-end-
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oh my gosh your writing is so insanely good i dont understand how its gives me sm butterflies bro
could you mayhaps do a tom x fem!reader one again and they’re in like rival bands
maybe not necessarily rival bands but there’s like a lot of tensions between the members of each band and they’re kinda known for disliking each other but then like they get drunk one night and tom and r are alone and boom yk idk how to describe it im so sorry
thank youuu 💗💗
-💿
ugh ty 💿 anon, you’re basically keeping my motivation afloat rn. you’re requests are always so fun to dooo
sorry this fic has been like weeks in the making, i've been really busy :(
Make Friends, Make Lovers
Tom Kaulitz band v. band fic
You are the guitarist of the famous German girl group "Engelsoase". With three other girls by your side, you've enchanted the nations with your music. The only catch is, you're not the only stars to come out of the humble roots of small town Germany. A band of combating popularity stands eye to eye with the four of you. They call themselves "Tokio Hotel".
Truthfully, none of you have ever met face to face. All of the tension between the two bands is mostly for publicity. The fans eat up every jab that's thrown between the two bands. Though, watching cute boys, that in any other situation would be your peers, poking fun at you and your best friends has made you distain the rivaling band in a way that's much more real. You'll often find yourself ranting to your bassist, Nadine, about how everything your band does nowadays has to be somehow related to this "Tokio Hotel".
"Listen, if you have such a problem with it, why don't you just ask Kim to do something about it?" Nadine says as she sets down her magazine.
You roll your eyes, "What would Kimmy do about it? Other than lecture me."
"Honestly," Nadine stretches her arms above her head, "I don't really care."
You groan and heave yourself off of the couch, "Fine," Snatching the magazine away from Nadine, "But I'm taking this with me."
Cautiously, you walk into Kim's room, where she's watching the television with your drummer Ines. You stand at the doorway for a minute before you sigh. "Kimmy? Can I talk to you for a sec'?" You ask. Almost in unison, Kim and Ines turn their heads to look at you.
"Sure thing," Kim turns to look at Ines, who's already begrudgingly getting off the bed. The small girl pats your shoulder as she leaves. "What's up?" Kim asks as she pauses the TV and turns to look at you. You shuffle into the room and sigh.
"Listen," You sigh as you fidget with the magazine you took from Nadine moments earlier, "This Tokio Hotel rivalry thing is getting so old. I don't know how much longer I can just be okay with being a boy band's duff." Looking at her, expecting her to be annoyed by your confession, only to find she's.. not. At all. Actually, she has a small smirk creeping up her face. You speak up, having noticed her mischievous demeanor, "What? Why are you smiling?"
"Oh, no reason." She says, turning back to the TV, "I don't think you'll have to worry about that 'Tokio Hotel rivalry thing' much more." And with that, you leave her room in confusion.
For the next week, it was radio silent about Tokio Hotel or anything of the sort.
But, that Saturday, getting lunch with the rest of your band, Kim dropped the bomb.
Swallowing down another bite of wurst, she clears her throat and speaks up, "So, girls, I'm going to be taking us to Berlin this afternoon." The questions spring out at an instant. 'Why?', 'Where are we going?', 'Do we need anything?'. But you stay silent, because Kim is smiling at you in specific.
She shushes Nadine and Ines and smiles devilishly, "This has been in the books for weeks, and everything is well coordinated." Kim beats around the bush, but you have a hunch. A hunch that you hope so dearly isn't true...
The car ride to Berlin is a quiet one. You sit in the back seat, with your arms crossed. Nadine sits beside you with her headphones on, Ines in the passenger seat and drumming on her thighs with her hands, while Kim drives. You know where you're going, and you know you can't do anything about it. You don't know why you're so upset about it, but you are. It's not really the boys' faults, you suppose. Maybe it's the media's fault, or the interviewer's. But it's so much easier to dislike four boys instead of disliking thousands of faceless reporters.
The car pool comes to an end at a high rise building that towers above the vehicle. Sun already beginning to set, the four of you walk in…
The four of you are greeted by tall boys with the same expressions as you. Kim shakes the tallest one’s hand and it’s easy to tell this was set up by the both of them.
“Well, make yourselves at home,” The tall boy says, his eyes dark as he looks at Kim, “We’re so glad we can finally meet you all.”
He turns to the rest of his bandmates and nods, they nod back. Your eyes meet the guitarist of the rivaling band’s, you watch as he looks you up and down and bites his decorated lip. “Gross,” You mumble to yourself. But it seems Tom heard you, his gaze softening.
It seems as if all the band members divvy themselves out to their “counterparts” at first. Not you. You take the glass of champagne that the tallest boy— the one with the makeup on— Bill, was it?— and you make a break for the balcony that overlooks the city.
You let out a relieved sigh as you not so subtly slam the sliding glass door behind you. Taking a sip of the champagne in your glass— huh, at least they have good taste.
There’s a light breeze out here, and the city lights, you find, are quite beautiful. It’s tranquil, and you almost forget that you were forced to be here. It’s not so bad, you conclude, they seemed hospitable enough. Maybe that Tom boy was a bit too hospitable for your liking, but it could be worse.
After a few minutes, you hear the glass door to your back slowly push open. Rolling your eyes to yourself, you turn back to look who it is. Strangely enough, it’s Tom.
“Mind if I join you?” He asks softly. This.. weirds you put a little. Tom was the bad boy, the player, but he seems quite gentle now.
“Uhh.. sure?” You respond as your turn back to lean against the railing of the balcony. He shuffles over beside you. Already, you can feel his eyes on you. “What brings you out here?” You ask, turning to look at him slowly.
His eyes are wide and full, he clears his throat softly and looks up at the sky. “It.. got boring in there.” He says.
“What’s with the change of personality?” You ask, “What happened to player-Tom? The bad-boy?”
He looks almost embarrassed at the question, “Well, I tried it but.. you weren’t even wooed, even a little bit.” He chuckles, as if in disbelief.
“So now you’re just gonna act like a kicked puppy?” You giggle, he looks at you fondly, still a bit embarrassed.
“Yes, actually. That’s the plan,” Tom says lightheartedly, turning his body towards you a bit more. As if he’s growing more comfortable with you.
2 cups of champagne each. 2 hours later. Giggling and evading each of your bandmates. You find, you really enjoy this boy’s company. It’s late, but you’re not tired really. Not at all. You both sit criss-cross, side by side, thigh to thigh, with your backs to the railing as you watch all your bandmates play a board game together.
“Y’know… I really like you,” Tom says softly, turning his head to you.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I mean, you’re so different,” He adds, “You don’t care about all that superficial stuff, you’re fun to hang out with.”
After a quiet moment you nod, “I could say the same about you.. unfortunately.”
The both of you chuckle softly. He places his hand on your thigh.
“I thought I’d hate this— or just like hook up with Kim or something,” He says, and you make a mock throwing up noise, at which he laughs, “But I was wrong!”
The two of you just sort of.. look at each other for a moment.
To your complete and utter surprise, you go in for it first. It’s sloppy, and half hazard, the two of you’s lips meeting like neither of you have ever kissed before. But you both quickly get the handle of it, dear god he’s a good kisser. He pulls away and looks at you with wide eyes.
“Cool,” He mumbles to himself and disbelief.
“Yeah…” You whisper back, leaning in again.
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Current digital art process!
Acting on @shkika 's request because making my redraw for this post actually ended up giving me more confidence in my digital art process! As such, I'm gonna use it as a reference. And if this walkthrough of sorts turns out nice, I might do it again as my process evolves!
I started off with a quick sketch of sorts, trying to focus both on movement and volume, and get the general idea of where each element is located. I edit the image dimensions and placement of things a lot in this phase, as my ideas often tend to change once I actually begin drawing them. In this case, as I got it down, I decided I wanted it to look like some cheesy animal motivational poster, so that influenced where the text was.
From there, I began to clean and sometimes edit the sketch, mainly by thickening the lines to make the shapes more definite, and erasing what wasn't necessary and interfered with other parts. Volume is one of my biggest focuses in my drawings, so I try my best to get the volume of each character at least hinted at with the lines. This is something that will probably remain in my process for a while, as I quite dislike doing separate lineart and like the messy, sketchy feel anyway.
I also wanna mention, in addition to having references and such in other windows, I've recently begun having a second mini window of my current drawing off to the side so I can see what it looks like overall more easily, regardless of how much I zoom in on and flip the main window. It's quite helpful!
For reference, this is what the final sketch looked like:
Then, I went on to add the flat colors. Another tip: I almost always set my sketch layer to "Lumi & Shade" because I think it makes the line colors a lot richer, but since it's based on what colors are underneath, it colors the lines a lot more individually than changing the sketch color as a whole. Here's some comparison to a version without the effect (left):
Then, I add some shading using a (really nice) marker brush. This is honestly one of my favorite parts of the process, just trying to carve out all the volumes, especially since I usually use a pretty blue color for shadows!
Sometimes, I honestly just leave drawings finished at this step, because I adore the sketchy look so much, and because I really don't like the tediousness of more realistic rendering in the painting process; from what I've seen/experienced, it often involves having to basically paint the entire image over again, which I've realized I find REALLY boring (and is also why I clean the sketch instead of making a new lineart layer). As such, one of my hopes is to reach a point where I could almost completely avoid having to clean up the image in a traditional painting method, instead being able to lay down lines and colors so well that they convey nearly all the volume necessary on their own, still have that sketchy appeal, yet also look finished and professional.
Alas, I did do a bit of clean up on this image, but I think it still turned out alright!
Here's the finished drawing! I'll have to practice with this process a bit more to truly solidify it as my digital go-to, but nonetheless, I think this came out adorable! Thanks again shkika for the ask, and thanks to @mintscampi for the sweet prompt! I hope you guys like it!
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ch.2 a blooming bond
simon (ghost) riley x gn! reader
chapter one :)
word count: 1,208 words
tag(s): fluff, strangers to friends (to lovers eventually)
petname(s) used: love, dove, reader calls simon honey
warning(s): (these are more of a disclaimer I think but anyways)
potential ooc!ghost
reader’s height is not described in heavy detail in this chapter but for reference (as mentioned previously) they will most likely be shorter then simon, I do apologize for my tall ppl out there but I promise I will try to keep it vague!
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a/n: hi again!! so sorry for the delay, life really came at me since the last part I posted and I was also trying to see how the first part did but I am more then happy to announce that the new chapter is here! I do hope you enjoy :) (dedicated to my best friend, she got a hold of my writing and helped give me motivation to write this part again, ty em <3 )
the banner is once again made by yours truly and the photos are from Pinterest!
please note that I'm not a florist nor am I very knowledgable on botanical things but I did try my best to find accurate meanings and gather research to then reference! if there are any major issues please let me know!
as always- comments, asks, feedback and reblogs are more than welcome and very appreciated! they help motivate me to write more :D
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true to his word, a couple weeks later simon returns to your small shop for a visit having stopped at a cafe down the way to get you both drinks.
“welcome in- oh, simon! what a lovely surprise” you smile getting up from where you were crouched adjusting the new delivery that had just arrived. you wipe your hands on your apron as you walk over to him “what brings you in today?” you ask, thanking him gently as he hands you your drink
“was in the area...just wanted to pop in, see if you were busy” (he’s been planning this for weeks don’t listen to him) he shrugs nonchalantly peering around the shop and taking in the new flowers since he’s been in last.
“oh no I'm free today! it’s quiet, I’ve just been sorting out the new shipment...trying to make some seasonal arrangements” you beam proudly, gesturing over to the plethora of buckets behind you. he nods fondly, taking in how excited you looked.
“would you...uh would you mind if I stuck around for a bit? maybe I could give you a hand?” he proposes shyly, still working around being so open with others- especially strangers. for some reason it wasn’t so hard to be so relaxed around you though, you were easy to talk to.
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soft music and the sound of laughter fills the small shop as you and simon work- or well, you try and help him make arrangements and watch as he grumbles about the tedious cleaning process
“they’re so finicky, why do these have so many leaves??” he huffs, scratching at his mask in irritation from across the work bench setting the flowers down on the table
“they’re wildflowers simon.. they get that name for a reason” you smile, adding the elastic to the end of the bouquet you just finished to hold it together. you head over to where the burly man stood to give him a hand, expertly trimming off the excess leaves and stems to clean the bouquet.
he scoffs and fiddles with one of the leaves that you cut, admiring your skill and gentleness as you continued to clean up the stems. "hey..you up for another task?" you ask gently, tying off the bouquet once more and putting it in a water bucket with the rest of the finished bouquets
"depends on what it is...don't seem to have a green thumb like you" he huffs, sitting on the stool and holding back a grin when you let out a hearty giggle "no no you're doing great!! honestly, you were getting the hang of it..but I just wanted to know if you would like to help me make some more seasonal arrangements? could use a new set of eyes" you smile sheepishly “I’m the last person to give advice on that sorta thing love” “well, never to late to learn how it all works right?”
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after some fiddling about the shop, and a much needed tea break later you and simon start planning ideas for some statement pieces. you had already worked on some classic arrangements for the season, filling the shop with warm toned florals in the accent corner "people don't buy crazy amounts of flowers this time of year, but I always like to have premade bouquets" you smile with a shrug, settling back at the work bench.
"you have a good eye..they work well together" he nods over to the dozens of bouquets lining the wall in buckets "oh those are just the classic ones, the seasonals y'know? we're gonna work on the statement pieces! they tend to be a bit more expensive because of all the add-ins but I do try to keep it reasonably priced" you ramble on, grabbing a notepad and pen.
"why don't you go around and pick some that you think work well? no limits, just try and keep them warm toned if you can..fall vibes n all that, but I'm handing over the creativity to you! I'm gonna decorate the storefront a bit so just holler if you need me" you smile reassuringly, slipping over the pen and paper and pressing a warm hand to his arm as you pass.
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simon took his time wandering around the shop, taking note of some flowers and extras that seemed to scream the "fall vibe" you were trying to achieve. he wrote them all down in his best handwriting, making sure to get the correct spelling as to not embarrass himself
"think 'm done" he calls out gently, wandering over to you and scratching at the stubble lining his cheeks under the mask "awesome! let's have a look hm" you beam, stepping off the step ladder you were using to hang some bat garlands in the window. he couldn't help but admire how you seemed to glow in the warm light from the sunset cutting through the glass, almost as if you were an angel on earth.
you glance through the list with an growing smile as you recognize the names. "honey...these are so-" "awful?" he cuts in, holding his breath as he waits for your response, not even registering the pet name you had used on him "what? no god no...these are going to work so beautifully together!! I might have to hire you full time" you beam, nudging him gently as you look up at him.
you make a mock bouquet with some of simon's choices, plopping in some sparkly leaves on sticks and foam pumpkin accents in some, whilst adding some feathery accents in others "well? what do you think?" you smile, showing him the completed piece to which he nods " 's really nice" "and all thanks to you! these are lovely" you smile, tucking it into another water bucket.
you work together to make a few more bouquets for the display, simon getting the hang of trimming and cleaning whilst you tie them all together, working until the sun was gone and the stars came out to shine.
"gods it's late! im so sorry I didn't even notice" you gasp, noticing the dark atmosphere outside "its alright, I had a great day.. learned a lot" he reassures you, setting down the last bucket of flowers "I can help lock up" he adds, a protective tone taking over as he takes in the time "oh thank you..you really don't have to though" "I insist, its my pleasure" he smiles, heading over to lock the front door and flip the sign for you.
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you both bustle about the shop, sweeping and cleaning off the counters, taking count of the money in the till before turning off the lights for the evening.
as you get ready to part, slipping out the back of the shop to the parking lot you nervously hand over a small bouquet of flowers with some greenery
"I uhm..made this earlier for you, they're alstroemeria's. they represent bonds and strength..but each petal means something too" you mumble, handing them over "what do they mean?" "well there's six of them so patience, empathy, respect, humour, understanding and commitment" you list off quietly, fiddling with your fingers
"they're lovely, thank you dove" simon nods, hesitantly reaching out to take your hand in his own to give it a gentle squeeze
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hi can i just say that while I haven't been there to read your HK fanfiction, seeing you update nailmaster's folly after so long makes me... hopeful? In the 'I also have wips I haven't touched in years but there might still be space for them one day if I get the gumption' sort of way? so, while I'm not really going to be reading it as I know nothing about HK: thanks for updating nailmaster's folly, so cool to see it.
Hey you're very welcome! I'm very stoked it's giving you hope for your future projects. That's a hope you deserve to have.
Honestly, one of the most important things about art that I wish everyone would, at some point, absorb into their creative process, is that everything is allowed to rest. Sometimes the only thing that will "fix" a problem piece is time and distance, and that time and distance is allowed to be long. You're allowed to drop something for 4 years and randomly decide it's worth your time again, and you should be able to have that process without guilt or judgement.
Not to get on the "internet culture is evil" soapbox, but, the idea of the "grind", that every project must be done at once, from start to finish, in a logical order that others can consume and follow from point A to point Z, is untenable for individual creators, especially creators that are doing it just for fun. You aren't a machine. You aren't a writing board churning out a podcast, movie, tv series, comic book set, etc. You're a person finding joy in making art about something you love. The process can be messy. It can make no sense. It can involve long breaks, or deciding you're done with something entirely. Without guilt or malice, you are allowed to wash your hands of something and then decide to get them dirty with it again when you can stand the texture.
I understand there's sadness in thinking you can't finish something, in not knowing how to fix it immediately, or not being able to conjure the motivation to put to physicality something that makes so much sense in your head. Be disappointed, and grieve it, if you must. But never think it was time wasted. No one has ever walked out of their house in the morning without, at some point or another, looking at the world to see what was there. You're allowed to start a project, walk down the road with it, and realize you'd rather look around.
You can always come back.
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The Arena - Part 1
Universe: Alice in Borderland
Pairing: Chishiya x reader
Disclaimers and Warnings: This is going to have some descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks as well as the general 'alice in borderland' violence. Be warned.
I'm trying to make the reader gn, but I'm always scared to make any sort of gendering labeling, so just please forgive me if something is gendered and know that my idea is to make the reader GN.
And also, I still don't know what I'm doing, and english is still not my main language.
Plot: You go to a work event in a familiar place you've never been to.
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // End
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The sun was still low on the horizon when you arrived at the Foundation’s main door. Grabbing your duffel bag and backpack you exited your car followed by your close friend, roomie and colleague Kaori. There were already a few staff members waiting, on the sidewalk, for the transport to take you all to the event and you both walked to join them.
Kaori hadn’t stopped talking about the conference and the fact that you would get a free vacation out of it. However, your mind kept switching her off from time to time.
“Hey! You sure you’re feeling alright?” They asked you for the tenth time.
“Yeah. It’s just weird…I feel…weird…” You told them honestly.
You met Kaori a long time ago. They had been the ones that had helped you after ‘the incident’. Their bubbly personality, friendly attitude, and especially their caring and patient side had become a safe space for you to turn to. Even if sometimes they were a bit overexcited. After the meteor, their over-the-top personalities were what kept you motivated.
“It’s the first lengthy trip after the…thing…it’s normal. It’ll be alright…” Kaori placed a hand on your shoulders, giving you a reassuring smile and you smiled back, still weary.
It was in fact the first long trip you had taken after the disaster a year ago. In the months after the incident, just walking around Tokyo would make you hyperventilate. Although it had subsided, there was still a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. You felt like a prey animal, always hypervigilant. All the doctors you knew and all the counselors told you it was normal. You had been through a traumatic event, more than that it had been a sudden traumatic event, your body still in fight or flight mode. Still, the explanation didn’t take away the feeling.
“I promise you, I have googled every single space agency, telescope and conspiracy theory website. None indicated the sky was going to fall down again.”
You rolled your eyes at their joke. Some people might find their humor offensive, but it was something you both had in common. Even though you still felt the scars mentally of your trauma, you found that a helpful workaround was to joke about it.
“Thank you. Deeply appreciated, friend!” You placed a hand on your heart in mock gratitude and they nodded.
"No problem, buddy."
As you approached the small group of people at the door, you both made a beeline for some familiar faces. The taller of the two figures, Ari, waved at you and your friend as they saw you approaching.
“Who’s ready for a free vacation?” Ari asked, clapping her hands together and beaming brightly.
“It’s not free.” Chishiya’s raspy voice argued.
"It's an all-inclusive, four-day trip to one of the finest resorts in Tokyo. It's a bit of a free vacation.” Kaori argued back.
“Did you forget about the two-day conference?” He asked her, pushing his hands into his white jacket.
You stood, quietly grinning, looking between Kaori, Chishiya and Ari as the three of them argued whether the event constituted a paid vacation or just work.
“You know! I liked you better when you were blonde.” Ari concluded by crossing her hands over her chest.
The look Chishiya threw at her was the most offended glare you had ever seen him give. It lasted exactly 5 seconds but it was enough for you to snort as you tried to keep the laughter in.
“Come on Ari, we all know blonde Chishiya was not the superior Chishiya.” You teased, pointing at his now jet black hair. “This! This is our true lord and savior. The evolution of the man, who is now a legend.”
“I don’t know why I hang out with you people.” He retorted, but his face was neutral with a side of good humor.
He had indeed made a radical shift in his looks. His hair was slightly shorter, looked healthier, but his usual white was now jet black. He had changed his locks after the incident, a few weeks after he started working at the Foundation. Obviously, you all teased him.
Truth be told, many survivors had indeed altered their appearances after the trauma. The last time you saw some of them, thanks to the ‘mandatory monthly therapy session ’ , there had been some changes in aesthetics. Some had grown out their locks, others had shaved their heads, and others had changed their style completely. You yourself had changed your appearance as soon as you could move about.
Every time you looked in the mirror, the person looking back didn’t seem like you. It was like staring at a photo of you from years ago. From another life. And technically, that was right.
“Because you need a few people around, to bring you down from that marble pedestal you like to stand on.” Ari said and everyone nodded, including him.
“Kicking and screaming sometimes.” Kaori gave everyone a knowing look.
"Alright children. Enough with the beating of an undead horse.” You looked between your friends as they groaned and moaned at the bad joke.
The bus arrived and the group made their way to it. As you walked down the bus aisle quietly, shuffling behind the rest of the staff, you could hear Kaori and Ari argue about something they had read in a scientific magazine and Chishiya complaining he was not mentally ready to spend an hour hearing Ari go on about this.
“You can sit with me.” You smiled at him, turning to look at him over your shoulder.
“Thank you.” He bowed his head to you.
As the four of you settled into your seats, the excited Ari and Kaori kept chatting on and on about the article while Chishiya just shook his head.
“That article was disproven by several sources months ago.” He declared in a hushed tone as he took out his hoodie and placed it on the overhead shelf.
“You can walk over and tell them that. Good luck!” You teased him and he shook his head, getting comfortable.
"Ari will probably google it in about...five minutes." He grinned at you, raising one eyebrow and you chuckled.
The relationship between you was warm, comfortable and you both seemed to enjoy each other's company. You both shared a once-in-a-lifetime experience, which bonded you in an unusual way, just like it did with the survivors. There were some who were affected more than others, but being collectively dead for a minute or two had made you all form a strange bond.
With Chishiya it spanned beyond the monthly meetings though. You had started working at the Foundation months before the meteor, and he had joined a few weeks after. The Foundation had made you and him sit through counseling every week, deeming that the monthly therapy group sessions given by the government weren’t enough. You would both sit in the waiting room of the psych wing waiting for your name to be called. That was the perfect opportunity for you to strike a conversation with the handsome and aloof doctor.
It started with small talk, the weather, the shifts at the hospital, what had been on TV. Even though he seemed distant, he was willing to listen to you. He kept the conversation flowing by adding some snarky remarks and trivia about the topic you'd be discussing.
And then you introduced him to your friends and the four of you became a unit. It had taken him a while to get used to the chaos that was the three of you together, but as time passed, you noticed him becoming more relaxed. Although he kept all of the other staff at arms length, barely moving an eyebrow at them, around you three, he seemed to be content. He seemed to be happy, often antagonizing one of you or just letting you all tease him about something.
It became a habit to wait for each other whenever you had counseling sessions. You would grab some cookies from the machine and sit on a bench taking in the last rays of sunshine.
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“Thank you” He said one day, munching on a biscuit, making you turn your head towards him in surprise.
“For what?”
“I don’t know.” The still white haired doctor shrugged and leaned back into the stone seat. “When I woke up in the hospital, I felt like I needed a change.”
“Dying does that to you.” You smiled at him and he nodded.
“I didn’t enjoy doing anything before. At least that’s what I felt. I was a flat line, just keeping up with the flow. Nothing mattered. Get to work, pretend to care, go home, pretend to have hobbies, pretend to have friends, go to sleep. Repeat. I felt nothing. Whether I was telling a mother that her child was dying or just ordering lunch, it was all the same to me. ”
“And now? Are there any nuances in your...feelings?” You questioned him softly and clearly saw the gears in his head turn.
“Yes.” He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully rationalize what they are, but there are spikes on the line now.”
“I don’t think you have to rationalize emotions, Chishiya. I don’t think anyone does. You just have them.”
“What if I don't have them?”
“Well, you go to counseling." you joked, pointing a cookie at him and then becoming serious. "I’ve seen you with your patients. I’ve seen you around Ari and Kaori. I’m seeing you now. This…” Your hand motioned towards him. “This is feeling an emotion.”
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Tagging goes here :D
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At Long Last
Dukexiety (Remus x Virgil)
Prompt: Hey mate so I'm a sucker for Virgil being rendered helpless and overstimulated so like could I put a request in for Virgil × Remus with Remus finally getting a hold of Virgil's voodoo doll?/Remus finally getting a hold of Virgil's voodoo doll?
Warnings: voodoo, sex, felching
A request from my Wattpad
"Ooo," Remus sings, as he stops midway through the hallway after spotting a discarded little toy. Very open on the floor was a little, pale doll, with cute, dark purple bangs. Of course Remus recognized the doll; he'd made it!
Back when he made his own little voodoo doll, he eventually got the motivation to make the others. And though this all started with Virgil using his doll, Remus never got the chance to return the favor!
So, he's quick to slip into the room and scoop the doll up, before skipping back out into the walkway.
He pauses outside of a door, though, before he peeks his head into Virgil's room as he passes it, basically pushing his way in unannounced when he sees Virgil isn't currently preoccupied. Virgil jumps at the rather violent intrusion, as his door swings open and collides with the wall with a bang.
"Virgil," Remus sings, "you're not busy right now, are you?"
Virgil looks at him curiously. "I might be, depending on what you say next."
Remus pouts at the sarcastic answer, but holds the doll firmly behind his back in order to not reveal why he's asking. He wants it to be an unexpected surprise! "Are you going to be busy later?"
Again, Virgil's eyes narrow as he looks Remus up and down, before eventually sighing and saying "no. I have no plans today. I might nap if my body lets me but honestly, who knows."
At this, Remus grins, and promptly walks out without another word. it's good to know he won't be interrupting anything... even though he probably would have fucked the doll all the same if Virgil told him he was going to be watching a movie or something of the sort. He's not known for his patience, after all, and since discovering the doll a few minutes ago, Remus has been fighting back the urge to just ruin the thing in the middle of the hallway.
He basically sprints to his own room, tossing the doll rather roughly onto his sticky sheets as he quickly shimmies out of his clothes. As he kicks his boxers off, he digs his hand into his drawer, searching desperately until he finally finds a small bag. He gives it a little shake, and is pleased to find it's still semi-full.
It was the "magic" powder that needed to be sprinkled on the doll in order to activate the voodoo aspect.
Remus is quick to open the bag and basically dump its contents onto the doll, delighted as he sees the sand-like substance meld with the doll and sink into its fabric, no doubt seeping into each stitch, and into the thin piece of Virgil's hair woven someplace inside the plush. Remus gives it a few seconds to let it properly soak up the dust, before he's hopping onto his bed, no longer having the patience to hold back to any degree.
He's quick to peel the clothes off the doll and toss them away. Curiously, he dips his finger into the hole on the underside of the doll, and licks his lips when his fingers sink into a warm, moist area.
Truthfully, he didn't fully understand how the dolls worked either, but nothing was real, so whatever.
In his room, however, Virgil is startled as he feels two objects begin to push into him. They don't push very far, nor do they stretch him open wildly. But it's still enough of an intrusion to have him gasping, and his back arching off the bed.
His face flushes as he wonders what the hell is happening. Of course, he's not an idiot. To some degree, he knows this has something to do with Remus - why would he have come to Virgil's door otherwise - but he can't place what exactly. After all, he only knew that Remus had created a doll of himself, not the other way around.
Remus has never exactly been known for his patience, and it’s not fingering the doll is going to help Virgil out anyway. That’s the only reason he bothers with prep anyway, so why would he waste his time stretching open an inanimate object?
He pushes his fingers deeper into the doll, delighted at the way just two digits make the doll’s fabric stomach bulge, grinning afterwards at the innocent looking plush held in his hands.
Truly, it was rather admirable; he was very proud of his handiwork.
He then sucks on his fingers after he pulls them out, vividly picturing what Virgil’s reactions must be. He’s half tempted to rise into his room and watch him lose himself on a phantom cock, but decides to deprive himself of the visible, reasoning that he’ll go see Virgil afterwards, and see how exhausted he is.
Remus flips himself to lay on his back, and holds the Virgil doll against his cock, giving himself just a few moments to teasingly rub the toy against his shaft.
“Fuck… if you were really Virgil, you’d be squirming around, and insisting you hate when I tease you,” Remus grunts, as he ruts his cock over the doll’s front. “Unfortunately, you’re just a pocket pussy replica.”
He lifts the doll up, and lines up its hole with the tip of his cock, before pulling it rather swiftly down, groaning to himself at the rather attractive visual of the doll being extra stuffed. He knows from experience that his cock will feel much bigger to Virgil, which it in fact does.
Virgil barely has time to put his phone down between Remus pulling his fingers out and pushing his cock in, but when he feels it he cries out immediately, thighs shaking as his toes curl. His fingers dig into the sheets beneath him, trembling from the intensity of being so suddenly stretched open, with his stomach bulging from this invisible object.
While he still has his brain, and the ability to think, Virgil tries to come up with a reasonable explanation for what he’s feeling. However, he only comes to a conclusion seconds before Remus starts thrusting.
Gasping out “Re- Remus!” he tries to roll off his bed, perhaps thinking he could make it to Remus’s room, but only effectively manages to get onto his stomach before he feels the phantom cock inside of him begin to roughly fuck him hard.
Tears well up in his eyes as he moans loud, voice cracking as he pushes his chest into the bed and his ass up into the air. He holds to his mattress for support, body rocking as he’s quite literally used like a doll. Because Virgil realized that’s what Remus was doing. Using his doll.
The pure oversensitivity sets into his body fast. His face is pushed hard into one of his pillows, sobbing out cries of pleasure as he’s fucked. Remus’s cock feels so overwhelmingly large inside of him, to the point where he can feel his stomach bulging with its girth.
He moans Remus’s name, as if hoping Remus will show up and touch him properly, but muffles himself with his pillow shortly after, drool spilling into the pillowcase.
His arms tremble as he attempts to push himself up, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as he unbuttons his jeans and shoves them down to his knees, while his shirt and jacket slide up, exposing his chest. Every time he moves though, he swears Remus’s cock drives deeper inside of him. It’s almost as though Remus is easily able to pick up on Virgil’s desperation, and wants him to be able to barely get himself upright. And it’s working.
As soon as Virgil’s clothes are removed enough, he gives up on getting them off completely, and falls back against the bed with a shuddering moan.
Remus isn’t slow in the slightest, grunting animalistically as he squeezes his hand around the doll, fucking up into it while dragging it down. He’s panting excitedly as he watches the doll repeatedly bulge with the size of his shaft, before he rolls onto his knees in order to thrust into the doll properly. He pictures Virgil beneath him, fucking him doggy style, and humps into the doll with more force.
His cock is enveloped in the fabric’s moist warmth, making Remus’s body feel hot as he pictures just how wrecked Virgil is.
And Virgil is wrecked.
Sweat drips down his face, slicking his bangs to his forehead. A mixture of tears and spit soak into his pillow, and he can feel his cock leaking pre beneath him. His prostate is slammed into almost immediately, causing a loud cry to be pulled from his throat. His eyes squeeze shut, and his knuckles turn white.
His thoroughly overwhelmed by the amount of sensations he’s feeling, loving the intense amount of physical pleasure he’s getting, but feeling as though it’s so fast. It’s too much at once, in the best way.
He should really be concerned that Remus has this much power over him. At any time, any day, no matter the circumstances, Remus could just interrupt Virgil’s routine - regardless of whether or not he’s around the others - and just stuff him full of giant cock. And while this should make him anxious, as soon as he realizes this, he’s fumbling to get his hand around his cock.
The idea is just so fucking hot, but Virgil’s already close. He resists the urge to stroke himself, and instead squeezes his hand around the base of his cock in hopes of prolonging his orgasm at least another minute or two.
A whine spills from his lips. The thought of Remus having full control over him…
He has no idea how close Remus is though, and so he knows that if he doesn’t at least try to last a little longer, he could end up so overstimulated that he’ll be unable to do anything for the rest of the day.
He clenches around nothing, soaking his pillow with fat tears as he cries loudly into his pillowcase. Every breath he takes is a gasp for air before he shakily moans again. His fingers squeeze harder around his cock, before he decides he can’t take it anymore.
As his prostate is assaulted, Virgil strokes his cock quickly and sloppily, until finally allowing himself to be pushed over the edge, coming over his bedsheets as a mixture of tears and drool falls from his face just as messily. He can barely work his cock through his orgasm before he’s collapsing into his mess, falling on top of his hand and the puddle of come beneath him.
Briefly, he whines, dreading the fact he’ll have to clean it later, but for now he pulls his hand out from under him and twitches helplessly as he’s forced to accept the onslaught of pleasure still being exerted on his body.
He looks pathetic. If anyone were to see him, they’d easily see his hole stretching and clenching around nothing.
Partially, he feels as though he’s going to pass out from his oversensitive state, left with no indication of if or when Remus will be finished with him. He thinks he feels Remus’s thrusts getting less and less refined, but Remus was never one for rhythmic thrusts anyway. He much preferred to just use and abuse to his heart’s content, regardless of how overwhelming that mindset is for Virgil.
Thankfully though, it doesn’t take long for Remus to fully ruin the poor little plush. Pre fills the doll’s warm hole as Remus fucks into it hard and fast.
Repeatedly, his cock slams deep into the toy, Remus grunting and panting wildly as his body is overcome with warmth, sweat rolling down the bony crevices of his body and dripping onto both the doll and the bed. Unlike Virgil, Remus doesn’t try in the slightest to stifle his orgasm, and instead moans out loud and shamelessly as his brings himself to climax, fucking the toy through his orgasm before eventually keeping himself half pressed inside the doll, stroking himself the rest of the way. He grins as he watches the doll’s fabric body bulge with the amount it’s stuffed with.
He lets his head fall back as he huffs, tongue lolled out of his mouth like a doll as he feels his own semen squeeze out of the doll and spill around his cock, but that cringe-inducing feeling is nothing compared to what Virgil is experiencing, letting out a trembling sob as he feels himself being filled with Remus’s load, his own cock working itself back up both due to being rubbed between Virgil’s body and the sheets, and because Remus thrusts into the doll a few more times after his orgasm is finished.
Ultimately, it leaves Virgil half-hard, but lacking the energy to get himself off again, and so he stays slumped against his mattress, messy with a variety of fluids.
That is, until, his ass is promptly slapped, making him yelp at the stinging sensation as he quickly rolls onto his side in order to look behind him, only to flush when he sees Remus grinning and nude standing at the side of his bed. He’s clutching Virgil’s ruined-looking voodoo doll, still dripping with the very semen Virgil can feel inside of him.
Remus holds the doll sideways, but tilted partially upward, in order to prevent any of his come from leaking out.
Virgil doesn’t have the energy to question why Remus isn’t being a messy little freak for once, too completely and utterly fucked out of his mind to say really anything, and so can only muster up the energy to grumble “a warning would have been nice,” even though he very much enjoyed the lack of such.
Remus doesn’t bother pretending to be sympathetic though, only able to fake a pout for a moment before cackling instead and pushing Virgil onto his back, crawling between his legs as he claims that he didn’t get a warning when Virgil did it to him. And Remus - disgusting as usual - doesn’t waste any time before holding the doll legs-spread above Virgil’s face, tauntingly musing “your little look-alike is all messy,” as a glob of semen falls from the fabric and onto Virgil’s cheek, making Virgil cringe.
Virgil’s face goes red, but he half-heartedly reaches up to push Remus’s wrist away, grumbling “don’t be weird.” But he’s tired and weak, and he can’t do much to stop Remus from making the doll pretend to kiss Virgil’s nose, before having the plush’s face bump against Virgil’s lips instead.
“You know, you should help clean up this mess,” Remus then says, which has Virgil’s eyes snapping towards Remus’s face.
“What?”
Lips stretching into a wide grin, Remus’s eyes gleam with mischievous delight. His free hand slowly rubs over Virgil’s nipple, which causes Virgil to let out a small moan, as he states “it’s your fault the doll got ruined in the first place. You’re irresistible, after all! It only makes sense that this doll of you is irresistible too.”
He runs his finger up Virgil’s chest, before using his pointer and his thumb to force Virgil’s lips apart.
“Now be a good boy, and keep your mouth open, unless you’d rather me make a mess of your face.”
His threat hangs loosely in the air as he lowers the doll to Virgil's mouth, pressing it's backside against him. Immediately, Virgil's tongue is assaulted by the bitter taste, and his ass is assaulted by the phantom feeling of him cleaning himself out. It's weird and hot simultaneously, making him moan against the doll's hole, dragging his tongue deeper into it and sucking the semen out.
Remus, deciding to be nice, grinds his palm over Virgil's shaft, easily working him back up until he's shivering and leaking, eyes rolling back into his head as he eats himself out.
Until finally, Remus squeezes the doll's midsection, rubbing his fingers against the wet muscle through the fabric and making Virgil suddenly jolt and cry out in pleasure, before Remus works him to another quick orgasm, making a bigger mess of his chest as Remus pulls the doll away.
Grinning with satisfaction, Remus throws the doll onto the nearby nightstand, and lays atop Virgil's pudgy stomach, making Virgil groan at the feeling.
"Feel good?" Remus asks, swiping his thumb along the corner of Virgil's lips in order to scoop up some leftover come, before pushing it into his own mouth.
Virgil huffs. "I'd feel better if we showered."
Remus sticks his tongue out, and squeezes his eyes shut, though he makes no move to get up and leave. "Gross. Count me out!"
Despite this, they stay laying together, Virgil too blissed-out to move, and Remus basking in the mess. And they stay cuddled up like that for as long as possible, just nestled up against each other, sticky semen between them.
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Some thoughts on cleaning
As an adult, I’ve never really known how to figure out what kind of cleaning I needed to be doing, and the advice that’s out there on the internet has never been very helpful to me. It feels like most of the advice I’ve seen has had one of two assumptions: 1.) your space is extremely messy (in a somewhat specific way), or 2.) you care a lot about having a clean home and are willing and able to invest a lot of time and energy into making that a reality (in an even more specific way).
Neither of these assumptions really fits me. I’m not the sort of person to leave mugs all over my apartment, keep lots of dirty dishes in the sink, or have piles of laundry lying around, and I never have been, so a lot of the advice aimed at mentally ill/disabled people hasn’t been helpful or resonant, even though I am mentally ill and disabled. But I also have never been the sort of person to vacuum, dust, etc. on a regular basis, nor have I felt like I’ve had the energy for that. I’m somewhere in the middle, falling through the cracks between the two prevalent types of advice.
And then this week, for the first time in years, I cleaned my apartment somewhat thoroughly. I didn’t do everything, but I did a lot. And I’ve been stunned in the past few days to realize how good it feels to live in a space that’s cleaner and less cluttered. It honestly feels amazing. I’ve loved my apartment for most of the time that I’ve lived here, but this is on a different level. So here are some thoughts about how you can maybe get a taste of this too.
You get to decide what your goal is. Do you want to vacuum? Do you want to go through the piles of papers sitting on every flat surface that have been accumulating for months or years? Do you want to throw out the broken stuff that you’ve replaced but haven’t gotten rid of? Do you want to recycle the boxes you’ve been compulsively hoarding? You don’t have to want a picture-perfect living space. You don’t have to shoot for the sort of house or apartment you’d see in a cleaning-supply commercial. (In fact, that’s probably aiming too high.) You don’t have to do what you’re “supposed” to do. You get to pick what “clean” looks like to you. You get to pick what will make the biggest difference for you. (Obviously, if you share a living space, you probably need to negotiate these things. But in spaces that are yours, this is your call, and even in shared spaces, it can still be worth questioning received notions of cleanliness.)
Start with something achievable. Vacuum one room, or sort through one stack of papers, or fill one bag of trash, or break down one box. If you complete that task, or even if you get halfway through it and then stop, great! Your space is cleaner than it was before! Every increment counts.
If you finish your first goal and still have energy, keep going. Ride that momentum as far as it’ll take you. It’s often easier to keep doing something than to start doing it, so if you can continue cleaning (and “can” here means that it’s both physically and mentally possible), then continue cleaning! You may find it easier to maintain momentum if you don’t sit down or take breaks, but also, if sitting or breaks are good disability accommodations for you, then use them.
Make it easier on yourself. If vacuums are distressingly loud for you, try earplugs or noise-canceling headphones. If rewards help keep you motivated, give yourself a treat when you finish, or even midway through! If you’re doing a cleaning task that can be done while listening to music or calling a friend, do that if you want. There is no virtue in misery, and in fact the best thing you can do is make cleaning not suck so that you can do it again sometime.
I hope this helps someone. I don’t think there are any universal rules about this stuff, especially in the specific, but I do think that picking a goal that’s meaningful to you, starting small, riding momentum when possible, accommodating your needs, and trying to find ways to reward yourself for cleaning are probably good ideas in most circumstances. Here’s wishing you the energy to clean!
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Happy Birthday, Veronika Grebenshchikova!
I have a confession to make. Despite my account being themed after Min and having made several posts analyzing her... I may like Veronika just as much, if not more than Min. Ever since her introduction, this Horror Fanatic has brought a smile to my face every time she comes on screen. Literally. Whenever I see her, my face immediately splits into the dumbest grin, I just adore her far too much. There's a lot we still haven't seen about her, but in honor of her birthday, I shall give a few of the reasons I love this freak to the death, and make a sort of birthday playlist as a gift.
+The main motivation for everything she does is boredom, as stated in her conversation with Teruko on Ch 2 Ep 7. Her profile states she took on her talent to seek thrills.
+This obsession with entertainment twists her personality quite a bit. “I don't care about morals. I don’t care whether people get hurt or whether they die. I just need to be entertained”. She’s honestly such a queen.
+Her twisted morals lead to her hanging out with people based on how entertaining they are instead of, like, normal standards for hanging out with people. Arturo is example number one.
"If you become more and more irredeemable, then I'll only love you more. I want to hear all about those horrible things you did with no justification".
She would be a standard Danganronpa fan, is what I get from this line.
+She has claimed she “used to be an outdoors person”, but apparently isn’t anymore. Whether she simply got bored of the outdoors, or there was something more traumatic at play, is still unclear.
+Her profile states she likes skateboarding. I adore this fact. Why there aren’t piles of fanart where she’s skateboarding, I don’t know. Get on it, people! /j. Unless?
(Also, I like to headcanon that she used to skateboard with Whit in their time at Hope’s Peak, but she was actually really bad at it. She constantly fell on her face, but always got back up laughing her ass off)
+The upper part of her dress is black and white, colors associated with the Tragedy and horror in the DRDT universe. This is stated by Veronika herself in Ch 2 Ep 2. However, this color scheme also kickstarts what I like to call:
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Mastermind Bingo! Ft Veronika
>She wears black and white, like Monokuma and MonoTV.
>She gets bored easily, and it drives her actions, like Junko and especially Izuru.
>She constantly psychoanalizes people, again like Junko.
>She has childish tendencies (read: likes the playground), which can be connected back to the Warriors of Hope and Monaca.
>"If I wore contacts, a wig, and different clothes, would you recognize me?"
So, thinking a bit like Tsumugi there.
>"That's why I liked horror for such a long time. The genre seeks to elicit base, negative emotions out of you, like fear, disgust, or sadness... That's exciting"
She is one step removed from outright claiming she likes despair! What is this?!
Also, liked, horror? As in, past tense? Is that implying she doesn't feel satisfied with horror anymore?
>"But after a while, fiction is only fiction..."
You look me in the eyes and tell me that's not something Tsumugi would say. She has aspects of every main-line mastermind! I wouldn't be surprised if she starts taking notes from other fangans, I'm half expecting her to start talking about "the resurrection of Divine Luck" or something.
>And that's not even mentioning things like her quote for Mai; "A girl who didn't foresee the consequences". Right, because Veronika would be the one to get the most ominous quote after MonoTV's "It's all your fault".
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To be clear, I don’t actually think Veronika’s the mastermind. I just find it funny how incredibly suspicious she is, to the point of not being suspicious in the slightest.
+CW for self-harm for this one. It is heavily theorized her secret is "You only took on your talent to distract from your incessant need to harm yourself for fun". After all, she is one of the only remaining characters who covers her wrists and most of her body, and doing something like that "for fun"... sort of only fits Veronika, as far as we know.
+Her secret quote is: "Once something is broken, it can never be pieced together in quite the same way again. The same goes for people." Whether she's talking about herself or someone else is unclear.
+The recent Q&A confirmed the following:
•Veronika is pansexual! Congrats on getting her, pansexual community! A true win for you.
•The earing she wears (a small green triangle) was given to her by her “dearest friend”. This friend's name is apparently Alyssa Belyaeva, taking the dubious honor of having a weirder last name than even Grebenshchikova.
•Her favorite color is white with other colors, since it makes the others stand out more, and her least favorite is white by itself, since it’s “soulless”. That’s… huh. Is that meant to mean anything? Could it be she sees herself as the color white; uninteresting and boring on her own, but helps other people seem more interesting by association? Am I reading too much into this? Probably, but that’s sort of my shtick at this point.
•Her favorite ice cream flavor is funfetti. Based.
•She smells strongly like women’s perfume. I guess, why not, right? Notably, Hu smells like women’s perfume as well, but it’s apparently fainter. Doubt it means anything, but it’s there.
+Veronika can do no wrong. This is an objective truth. Slay queen (but, wait to like, chapter five. I really, really hope you don’t die at three).
And finally, like I did with Min, here's a few songs which remind me of Veronika! And as you're gonna see, my music taste sort of really aligns with the kind of songs one would assign Veronika.
CW, some of these can include topics like murder and extremely disturbing imagery.
-The Chattering Lack of Common Sense, by Ghost & Pals
-End World Normophaty, by Ghost & Pals
-Hide And Seek (English cover by Lizz Robinet), original by Ho-Ong-i
-Corrosion, by Riproducer / RIP
-Chronic Wasting Disease, by Riproducer / RIP
-The Spider and the Kitsune-Like Lion, by MASA Works (CW for this one in particular, it's really fucked up. Cannibalism, torture, necrophilia, etc)
-Hi-fi Evolution Theory, by Keu Studio (probably her character playlist song)
-What Gave it Away, by Riproducer / RIP
-Matryoshka, by Hachi
-Honey I'm Home, by Ghost & Pals
-Entomologists, by Ghost & Pals
-The Experiment, by Steampianist
-The Boy who Went to Hell, by SHUDDER
-Secrets of Wysteria, by Steampianist (CW, this one is based on real events of violent crimes)
-The Dismemberment Song, by Blue Kid
-Mad Hatter, by Melanie Martinez
-Uncanny, by Ghost & Pals
-God-ish, by PinocchioP
-I Can't Fix You, by The Living Tombstone (Veronika loves FNAF, you can’t convince me otherwise)
-Always Wanted, by MiatriSs - SayMaxWell
-The Red Means I Love You, by Madds Buckley
-Already Dead, by KittenSneeze
Alright, I'll stop there. With the final song:
-Happy Birthday! (but, like, a creepy cover or something)
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I'm.. Confused?
Okay i will be completely honest here, i rarely very rarely watch any content that isn't purely BTS when it comes to, well.. BTS. So when it's something about Bang PD talking about BTS sometimes i only catch snippets on my tl and i end up watching it very later solely because there was a mention of BTS.
Now this popped up on my TL because someone qt tweeted it, i'm not sure about what this interview was all about, i still didn't watch it, i don't have the whole context but anygays :
(My Tumblr isn't giving me a preview of the post so i'm linking the ss of the post anyways)
After i've been sitting here reading this over and over again, reading comments and quotes i was like.. If this is real, well it most probably is since i didn't see anyone correcting OP yet on the take, just how many times were BTS lied to, gaslighted up until this day about things they are doing..
And if you think about it it's actually pretty scary, imagine being manipulated into thinking you are not doing good enough and you need to do this and that to be able to achieve XYZ goal that you have, but at what cost? How do we even know that those "motivations" aren't backed up by a selfish desire of seeing BTS grow just for the financial gain the company gets from that? How do you even know that the way they are being led won't strip away what the members themselves wanted to achieve by choosing a path that was wrongfully introduced to them?
I don't know if i'm making sense here and i hate how people are quick to call BTS company's puppets when shit like that is being talked about, but honestly? Personally if i've been working under someone who is supposed to be a leader helping me, someone who so far through years has been a person i've looked up to, respected and trusted to seek advise from to continue to push for my dreams, just for them to end up being liars about the advise they gave me, because maybe the most crucial part of my dream was never going to be fulfilled following the advise i was given, maybe the advise helped me grow and through me that person was able to grow as well leaving the part i might've been in desperate need from the start..
I feel like i'm still not making any sense, i also don't know how much i should rely on a single post and comments and qts backing it up but as i said, if it's all true, if it's all not just some misunderstanding of some sort, then goddamn it's really scary!!! I wouldn't want to imagine our boys trusting someone enough to see their advise as something precious they might feel it should be considered, they make them believe that they are given full freedom to chose while maybe even the choices that are out there presented to them are still not on a wider scale presenting a potential to reach what they were made to believe would make them achieve what they want for the future.
Many artists don't only seek the artistry recognition, some people want or NEED a recognition on different aspects including who they are too as a person not just as an artists, but the mere thought that this can be stripped away from an artist just by using this gaslighting tactics.. *Sigh*
I'm rambling, i don't know i just poured all the thoughts that came to my mind after reading that. All i ever want is for our boys to be happy with their career, their artistry, their creativity, their professional and personal lives, i just want them to find comfort in both and always feel no type of restriction or barrier out there for them to reach the peak of their happiness..
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Author here: my confession is i'm lying. My demoless intro blew up and i kinda can't be asked to write it anymore. I keep posting screenshots of snippets but i'm never gonna release anything. I feel bad cause there are so many asks but i seriously don't have an ounce of care. I love my cast and my story but it’s so hard to write. I've seen a lot of accounts with a lot of hype and asks but no demos so i don't feel terrible and we authors don't owe anyone content anyway. I know it's bad but i love getting sent questions and notes cause people are so interested and it's so fun to post new ideas. Once my hype dies i'll probably just create a new one cause i'm already writing a synopsis for this new story and it's so good.
Hi Anon,
I'm going to get real with you, buddy. I had to write this message multiple times because I ended up being a bit too... angry. And as much as I absolutely don't vibe with this whole position, it would still not be fair to you to get the end of my frustration with it.
So I am trying again, (more) calmly.
I honestly have been wondering if you are maybe lying to yourself when you said you can't be asked to continue your project. You seem to be very enthusiastic about the story and the characters (or you wouldn't be sharing snippets or answer asks about it. What jumped at me was: my demoless intro blew up.
I've answered a lot of asks in the past about creators worried about not being enough because their project didn't get enough attention, but very little when it came to the ones blowing up overnight. But just because your intro blows up, doesn't mean you don't struggle with all of this.
So I have a few questions for you:
Are you having this blasé attitude about your project and giving up because of the heightened expectations of having blown up?
Then you might find getting a break from interaction/the social aspect to help. Or maybe interacting with other creators outside of Tumblr and discuss experiences and what to do when the motivation is gone or it becomes to overwhelming (hint: it's often a break).
Another option is to set expectations about the project. And I mean yours. Creating a grandiose story spanning books and dozens of chapters each and a cast as long as your arm can be incredibly fun, but it might not feasible, and often becomes overwhelming. Maybe take a look at your story and chop it down to manageable bites or remove parts that don't fit.
Do you worry if you actually post it, people will not vibe with it?
In this case, consider alpha/beta testing, where you share more about the story to a select few and request feedback. Joining a writer's group or a smaller IF server to discuss or brainstorm or get feedback on ideas is also a nice way of getting confidence about what you are doing. Some community have even some sort of writer's circle, where multiple people get together and write for an hour or two.
Are you afraid you will be found out as not being a good creator (a.k.a. the imposter syndrome)?
We all start somewhere, and that somewhere is very often bad. Don't sweat it.
The good news tho, is that it can't get worse. The more you write, the better you get. (but you have to write first)
Do you want a point of reference? Try reading the first version of my first game. It is cringy as hell, there are a lot of grammar and syntax mistakes... I hate it so much, so I made it public to everyone. Go roast me about it, then go read the much better version (or the other way around.
Do you feel like you are lacking confidence in your ability to finish the project because your experience with the medium is minimal, making it overwhelming?
Pause the project for a bit, and write a tiny game (not more then 1k). Join game jams to test some stuff out. Mess around with the program and see what can be done.
Did your struggle with writing come from realising the amount of work required to make it happen?
Time to break it down in smaller pieces, until it feels doable. Then take one piece at a time.
And there is no timeline you need to keep...
Do you feel like you can't do this by yourself and would feel more confident continuing the project if you had more direct support?
Try to reach out to other people and see if someone would be interested in helping you make this project a reality. I've seen many projects being done in duo or trio (Harcourt, Lady Thalia...). It will be a different dynamic, but can be very fulfilling.
Are the characteristics of the IF medium something you can't see working? Does the story not work when variation is added? Is there only one path that works for you?
Maybe, IF is not the medium for this project (or for you). That is also fine!
Not everything will work with IF (hell, even inside the IF sphere, some stories fits better the parser-type or the choice-based one, or the hyperlinks one). Maybe the project should become a novel, or a poem collection, or be turned into a comic/webtoon.
~~~
Before you go on to make another intro post with your new idea on the hope that it will blow up so you can just talk about it and bounce when it becomes too difficult, maybe ask yourself:
why you entered this community in the first place,
why you wanted to try your hand at making IF too,
why this story stuck to you so much you wanted to share it with everyone,
what made the story fun in the first place,
what was the point where the fun in writing actually stopped,
whether you want to abandon a story you seem so passionate about...
Interactive Fiction is an awesome medium, and it's a shame to take it for granted...
Or you can go ahead and post that new idea of yours, continuing to blatantly lie to people to get attention rather than enjoying the medium and the craft for what they are, and toy with people essentially...
I might have been reaching there about the lying to yourself, or the fact that blowing up affected your love for creation more than what you message conveyed...
... and you might actually not give a shit at all about doing anything but throwing ideas at the wall, ignoring the rich and incredible history of Interactive Fiction and its captivating evolution (still happening today), neglecting the vibrant community just to con people for notes and attention that are insignificant in real life, lying to everyone just for the lolz...
You do you boo...
~~~~~~~~
Little reminder for people reading this:
Don't send hate to people posting an intro post without a demo assuming they are like this anon. It would really suck if we end up gatekeeping a fun hobby because of one bad apple.
[old comments in tags: I'm sorry but I really don't like liars that do it for the lolz it's not cute gosh i tried to tone done the judgement on this really hard I honestly hope anon is just overwhelmed because they got more attention than they thought they would in the first place /]
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